


Infatuation

by Wu_the_Stoic



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Desire, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:23:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9550910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wu_the_Stoic/pseuds/Wu_the_Stoic
Summary: 10 years after the war, partners in the Preventers and roommates to boot, Duo realizes that he still has a lot on his mind when it comes to Heero. (This work is not complete, I just can't find where to edit the tags to change that.)





	1. Chapter 1

He grunted his morning greeting as he came into the living room, I lifted my hand in return and tried to focus on the screen, but my attention was having nothing to do with a cold case murder-suicide at the moment. Not when Heero comes into the room with that towel draped over his shoulders. That only means one thing…

Knuckle pushups.

I swear that man can make my _braid_ sweat…

My abdomen clenched. Honestly _clenched_. Like the way it does right before I finish myself off at night as I lie in bed, touching myself to the sounds he makes while in the shower. The thoughts of the water trailing down the perfectly defined muscles of his abdomen in little rivulets that I long to capture with my tongue? Yeah. That sends me right over the edge. My abdomen clenched again, proving to me that that man can make me come without a single touch and if I don’t unglue my bum from the seat, I’m about to make a mess in my sweat shorts.

He’s quiet as he moves the coffee table against the wall, and then he goes down in front of the couch. His back is to me and man… what was I talking about? Oh yeah, I have work to do, we’re off this week and I was a good productive boy and brought a cold case file with me to try to breathe some warmth into it.

Never mind the warmth in my belly. Does he know what he does to me? He has to; we’ve been roommates for two years, partners for longer than that at Preventers. Heero knows me inside and out… well, not physically. Yet. He’s about to get to know me more intimately if he doesn’t stop turning his back on me after making such blatant displays of sexual... I need a cold shower. He’s going up and down, grunting with each rep, and all I can do is sit here with a tent in my own shorts and wondering what it would be like to be beneath him, my legs wrapped around his waist loosely, my hands in his hair, kissing, thrusting.

Crap… I need a cold shower. At least his back is to me, so it was easy to get up and scurry out of the room. At least I hope I wasn’t scurrying, but with my compass needle pointing forward, a rather large compass needle pointing forward, I might add, I would wager a bet that he would notice the state of my arousal. Could he be doing this on purpose to get me back for all the times that I’ve driven him up the wall? It honestly wouldn’t surprise me. Heero’s a smart guy, after all, and his sense of humor is razor sharp. Besides, I know he’s caught me watching him out of the corner of my eye several times, but was too subtle to let me know he knows. Now I’m rambling and that’s all his fault! Hard to think when there’s little to no blood going to my brain!

I remember back when we were Gundam pilots, and on the off chance that he and I had to share a school, he’d do those pushups back then, too. Or sit ups, or crunches. I have to say, he was cute back then, but today? Man, oh man, but did he blossom; from cute to downright dangerously addictive on the gorgeous spectrum. I’m not surprised, though, that he broke the six foot barrier. Not with feet as big as his was back when we were fifteen. Let me tell you something, ten years did a body good.

 _Real_ good.

“I’m takin’ a shower!” I inform him. I honestly didn’t mean for it to come out as a snarl, but I _was_ trying to get some work done. He’s got a bedroom; why not work out in there? Of course, he could fire back that I have a computer in _my_ room, why can’t I work in there? And then an argument would ensue, we’d snap and bite at each other all day and before it was said and done, we’d end up loudly ignoring each other.

“Don’t use up all the hot water,” he answers me back between grunts. I whimper as those erotic images once again fill my head. I’ve seen him naked and aroused. I want that so hard. Besides, don’t worry, Heero. You’ll be lucky if I don’t use all the _cold_ water.

* * *

I was so lost in my case file that nine o’clock snuck up on me before I realized I had forgotten to make supper. Heero was sitting behind me, on the couch, hunkered over his own laptop and for hours, neither of us said a peep to one another.

“Crap, you hungry?”

Heero grunted after checking the time, and then rose at the same time I did.

“I’ll get it,” I said.

“What are you thinking about?” Heero didn’t sit down, but instead, followed me into the kitchen. I like it when he does that. It feels so domestic.

One thing that always gets me about people is how much they underestimate Heero. We’ve been ex-soldiers for a decade now and at the beginning, there were folks who had worked with us that were honestly surprised that Heero could function in a world where he wasn’t needed as a soldier. One night, we were watching a movie and during a commercial break, it just came out of me. I asked him why people thought he couldn’t cope with the real world. He shrugged before getting up to get a soda and said people often liked to judge a book by its cover, that was just something safe and in their comfort zone to do. It was a simple assessment and I agreed with him. So many people like get me wrong at a first glance, too. It’s annoying.

People treat me like a clown, just because I smile. People treat me like I’m an idiot, because I’m cute. People underestimate me, when they have no idea of my intellectual prowess. I’m a pretty open guy… well, as open as I’ll allow myself to be, but mind you; there is a _lot_ going on behind the scenes up here that a lot of people haven’t seen.

Heero on the other hand… it amazed me how many times people checked up on him when he got his first apartment, right after the Mariemia conflict. After he destroyed Wing Zero when he was blasting away at those bunker doors. Man, I wish I had been close enough to see that, talk about a great memory.

I’m staring at him… oh crap, I’m staring right into his eyes and he’s just looking at me. I bet he’s waiting for an explanation as to why I’m just staring at him without saying a word. Wait... no he’s not. I see that tiny little crease on the left side corner of his mouth. He’s finding it funny. Slowly, I begin to cross my eyes until there are two of him and he scoffs and turns to the fridge.

They thought he’d kill himself. They thought he’d end up on the streets, helpless and hungry because there was no more war for him. They thought he would end up in the looney bin, or in jail. I knew better, though, because I _knew_ him. Whether it be a ninety hour long stakeout, or a trip to the grocery store, Heero has one simple thing that he relies on; a well-honed coping mechanism.

There’s an innocence about Heero. Something sweet that he’s personally kept locked away, deep within the confines of that kind heart of his. And he’s _very_ kind-hearted too, though he has no qualms about showing someone tough love. That’s all _he_ knows, is the tough-love stuff, but he’s good at it. Like that time I got captured and let O beat the snot out of me to buy them more time to finish the Gundams. The first thing he said to me was “Botched your mission? You couldn’t destroy the base and you didn’t kill Doctor J and the others.” Butthead. To be fair, though, that was his way of showing concern. After all, he _had_ told me to take it easy and recuperate, and get back into school. It was his way of keeping me out of his way and to keep me safe, but, you know me. I just can’t sit still and let a war go on around me without having to get into the middle of it. He was kinder to me that night, though. He checked my wounds and sat next to me while I dozed in and out because I was in too much pain to actually get all the way to sleep. We spoke some, listened to Wufei assess the situation and made a few plans. The best memory I have of that night, though, is how he just sat by my side, eventually putting his hand on my back between my shoulders and holding it there. He offered me silent comfort and that went a very long way with me.

It was the moment I fell in love with him.

“Since we’re off this week, let’s hit the beach tomorrow.”

I glance away from the roast I’m cutting up into cubes. I’m going to sauté them with butter in my cast iron Dutch oven along with onions and potatoes before adding some stock so I can make a simple beef stew. Since it would take an hour or so before it’s done, I was just thinking that maybe egg noodles would be a good idea to toss in when he spoke up. “Let me guess, you’re going to go show all those ripped guys out there in flip flops and speedos your volleyball prowess?” I smirked at him as I continued to cut.

“No, just the ones wearing thongs,” he fires back and I shudder. That’s one of our million or so in-jokes we share. One time, Quatre had gone out with us while Trowa was on assignment. We volunteered to babysit him to keep him from moping, so, we took him to the beach. Perfect day, perfect weather, perfect food, perfect time until that evening began to fall. (Not to mention a perfect sunset).

We were kicked back in our chairs, letting the wind ruffle our hair against our closed eyes, drinking an imported beer and Heero and I trying to decide where we wanted to go eat when this guy comes walking along. I cracked an eye open when his shadow crawled across my face, blocking out the fading light and watched him nearly stagger in place when he got a good look at my fair friend. I fought hard not to smile, or subtly turn my head to even look at Quatre.

Ah, Quatre. He was dozing, a book open on his lap, his head turned to the side, the wind tousling his hair to frame it perfectly along his face. He’s a stunner. Cute when he was a pilot, now, he has the looks to make a supermodel jealous.

This guy… what could I say? He was a playboy in his mid-fifties. Large ego, hair everywhere and more gold than Ft. Knox adorned him in various places. At the time, he was wearing a big Hawaiian style shirt and a pair of designer shorts. When he scurried away, I elbowed Quatre and gave him the heads up, to which he just rolled his eyes at me, put his sunglasses on and settled back into his chair. I looked over at Heero, who was staring at the ocean rather thoughtfully, so with a shrug, I put my arms behind my head and dozed off. Twenty minutes later, I was awoken to an elbow trying to mate with my ribcage. I look over to my right and Quatre has moved over close to me, his lips pulled into a tight line and he’s definitely not pleased.

“Dude, what is it?” I whispered.

“There is a man who keeps walking by.”

I looked at my friend like he was crazy. “Yeah, they tend to do that on a public beach, buddy,” I answered back.

“He’s in a thong.”

“Yeah, they’ll do that too, sometimes.”

“He’s… what is the phrase that you use, Duo…” He paused in thought for a moment before his eyes lit up as it came to him. “He’s peacocking for me.”

I tossed my head back with a laugh, which in turn roused Heero from his nap. “Well, well, well, Quatre, so you’ve got an admirer?” I had a feeling who it was, because playboy was pretty obvious when he first put his eyes on Quatre that he was interested. And now he was in a thong? This… I had to see.

I wish I hadn’t.

The man wasn’t so bad for his age, a little rounded in the gut, but hey, to each his own, right? That didn’t bother me; I often run by Howard and give his budding stomach a good smack. It’s for good luck. I just wish he’d get out of the habit of punching me in the butt cheek in return. I think it was all that sweat and excess body hair on playboy that had me a little creeped out. If I ever start to get that hairy, I’m getting lasered.

Anyway, I can’t wait to see the mating ritual so I put my sunglasses on so I can openly watch in private. Well, here came playboy and he had two hot mamas on his arms. I look over at Quatre, to gauge his reaction, and see that he’s relieved.

“Oh, I wouldn’t get comfortable so fast,” I murmured to him.

“What do you mean? He’s got those girls now.”

“He’s trying to get your attention and make you jealous.”

“ _What_?” came the response and I just smirked.

“Yeah, he’s got his eyes on you. Besides, you’re prettier than those trophy wenches on his arms; you know he’s going to make rounds.”

“I say we make this a drinking game,” Heero pipes up. Quatre looks over at him in horror, blames _me_ for being a bad influence on Heero, but quickly accepts because the end of the day is upon us, the sun is on its way down and we’ll be walking home soon.

I lean over, dig in the cooler and produce three beers. We open them up and Heero starts with the rules. One drink for every time he passes by. One drink per each woman on his arm. One drink for every time he acknowledges Quatre and then I pipe up and say “If he turns his back to us and bends over in Quatre’s direction, you _chug_.”

Quatre blanched at the mere thought, but we all clinked our bottle necks together in agreement and settled in to play the game.

I don’t remember much, because we ended up having to call Wufei to pick us up. Playboy had walked past us over forty times. Half the time he had a woman on his arm, and at least five times, he tried to wink at Quatre with his butthole as he would surreptitiously bend over in front of him, trying to ply him with the goods. When playboy realized how inebriated our little blond friend was by the time we decided we were just way too drunk to continue to play this game, here he came, all touchy-feely and wanting to help the apparently only person standing there in our group of three.

He quickly learned two things in that brief encounter. One, Quatre was married and devoted to Trowa. Two. Quatre is a very mean drunk. Heero and I stood there, plastered and bleary eyed as we watched Quatre grab the man by the waistband of his thongs and give him a front wedgie that he’d never forget. I was never so grateful to see Wufei charging up to us as I was then.

It took a long time for Quatre to break me from calling him “Wedgie Boy”, too. I still have that as his contact name on my phone.

“Hey, get me that carton of chicken broth out of the fridge, would ya?” I asked. Heero obliged and handed it to me and I poured it in. “We had a nice time that day, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, we did,” Heero agreed as he began to clean up after me while I continued to get the cooking done. It didn’t bother me that we were eating dinner so late. Often that is our life as we work on cases that follow us home. Our elbows bumped as we stood shoulder to shoulder.

“We need a bigger place,” I mused.

“You don’t like it here?” He honestly sounded surprised. After all, he was the one who picked out this apartment, and then invited me to move in.

“It’s not that I don’t like this place,” I said. “I’d just like a little more room to move around in.” To prove my point, I leaned into him as I continued to slice a potato. He grunted and gently pushed me back to my side.

“I see your point.”

“So, what do you think? Maybe rent a house or something?”

Heero shrugged as he rinsed out a dish cloth and rang it out before hanging it on the wedge between the two sinks. “Or, we could just buy one, cut out being the middle men.”

“You’d want to share a real house with me?” I asked, amused. “What if you want to get married? I’d have to move out and find my own place.”

“I don’t want to get married,” Heero said as he turned and leaned against the counter.

“You say that now,” I said as I gestured to him with the wooden spoon that I had been stirring the pot with. “You’ll find someone, fall in love and then poor old Duo is out on the streets again.” I chuckled to show him that if that time ever came, has heartbreaking for me as it would be, that I was okay with it. If Heero was happy, then so was I.

Then something hit me and I turned back to the pot. He wasn’t considering the fact that _I_ could fall in love one day and get married and have a family. I risked a glance at him out of the corner of my eye and cleared my throat. “Or, what would happen if I did that?”

“Get married?”

“Yeah, I mean, us buying a house together is a pretty serious investment.”

“We’ve been together this long,” Heero said. “Even if it is a snap decision, if you want something bigger, we can get something bigger.”

What was he trying to tell me? I felt my heart speed up, but I didn’t dare entertain the possibility of hope. Heero was just a reasonable guy. If a house would be better suited for us, then we could easily afford to buy one, split the costs and all of that. If one of us, him most likely, decided to fall in love, get married and start a family, he could easily buy out my half of the house and I could go on elsewhere. It was simple, cut and dry. We could even draw up a contract for that if need be. Not that need would ever be. We’d never screw each other over something as silly as finances. No. That was in neither of our characters.

But to assume that _I_ wouldn’t find someone? What exactly is he getting at? Have I been that obvious? Have I been that oblivious? I put the lid back on the pot and turned the unit down before walking the few steps to the sink to wash my hands. Maybe I’m just assuming too much. After all, I might be a pretty smart guy, but that doesn’t mean I have the answers to everything. Maybe Heero doesn’t feel the need to settle down just yet, and he knows that I am in the same boat. What with how much time and effort we put into being Preventer Special Agents, time for a family and the domesticated life that comes with it just isn’t in our cards yet.

“Duo?”

I didn’t realize that he had been speaking to me until he called my name. Again.

“Oh, yeah, sorry, went off in thought there, what was it?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m fine.” I gave him a firm pat on the shoulder before heading back to the living room. “Let’s watch some T.V. while dinner cooks.”

* * *

 I figured I would spend most of the night tossing and turning, trying to get to sleep and I was right. We decided to go to bed shortly after we ate, Heero wants to hit the beach kind of early so we can make a day of it. I don’t know how easy I’ll be able to get up, because I absolutely cannot get to sleep, my eyes refuse to close. Everything about this evening keeps bouncing around in my head. What did it all mean? Am I making a mountain out of an anthill? Am I seeing things because I want to, instead of him being accommodating to my wants? He’s always been like that with me, I’ve noticed.

Kind of how Trowa is with Quatre, or vice versa. Maybe that’s because we’re best friends? I’d move heaven and earth if Heero needed me to. I guess it makes me feel good that he feels the same way about me, in that regard, anyway. He’s bustling around in his room right now. I check the time and find that it’s just a little past one. For some reason it feels much later than that, but, we’re night owls, so it’s all good. I roll onto my left side and stare down at the little shaft of light that slips in beneath the door from the hall. It breaks as he walks past. I guess he’s heading to the kitchen or bathroom, and I close my eyes, never aware of when I drifted off.


	2. Chapter 2

I was right… this getting up early thing is for the birds. My alarm was singing to me the song of its people, loudly, right in my ear. Heero bought it for me, a silly little thing shaped like a baseball, but much softer than a real one so it wouldn’t do any damage when it was whipped unceremoniously into the wall. Like it was about twenty seconds ago. I have to admit; I am _really_ starting to get good at throwing a curveball. Maybe I should have tried out for the major leagues? Oh wait, they have to get up early and practice in all kinds of heat. _No_ thank you. I’m happy being a Preventer. I’m not just saying that because my partner is hot, either.

There was a downside to the bloody thing, though, when you threw it and it hit its target, which tripped the snooze button, the next time it went off, the alarm was replaced by a shrill old lady screeching obscenities at you until you woke up. One time, about a week before Halloween, I had accidently thrown it too hard and it had hit the solid wood of my closet door. By the time it rebounded and rolled under the bed, I had already gone back to sleep and let me tell you… when that old lady started cussin’, I nearly wet myself at the slew of obscenities that came up from under the mattress right at face level. I could have _sworn_ for a brief moment that the place was haunted, imagine my surprise with _that_ wake up call.

Only Heero.

With a groan that only I could produce at seven in the morning on a day off, and with absolutely no caffeine running through my veins, I somehow managed to get myself up into a halfway decent pushup. My brain, still struggling in vain to get back to sleep, refused to kick into gear and I found myself staring blearily at my pillow. I shook my head, grumbled to myself and answered back in a thick, Scottish accent that today was the day we were going to shake our booties if we wanted the Isle rid of the seagulls.

I _swear_ I have an I.Q. over forty. I’m just not a morning person.

“Duo?”

“No?”

“Duo!”

“What!”

There was a long pause. “Are you up?”

I thought about that for a long time.

“Duo?”

“ _What_?!”

“We have to cancel our trip to the beach.”

You gotta be kiddin’ me…

“You gotta be kiddin’ me…”

“It’s raining,” came Heero’s response through my door. “You can go back to bed. We’ll try it again tomorrow.”

I dropped my weight off of my elbows, landing face first into my pillow, where I lie like that until the overwhelming desire to breathe kicked in. I turned my face towards the wall, settled into the bed and closed my eyes. “Okay,” I muttered. But it couldn’t rain all day, surely. Maybe it would pass and we’d still get to hit the beach. Maybe not as _early_ as Heero was anticipating, but still, we could have a nice day, play in the water, build a few sand castles, his are always the best, eat a little something, maybe grab a movie and before I knew it, I was out like a light.

When I woke up three hours later, sunlight was streaming through my heavy bedroom curtains. I rolled over onto my back, rubbed my face with my palms and got out of bed. I needed to wash my sheets this evening anyway, so I bypassed making my bed and got dressed for the beach.

* * *

“You’re not wearing that, are you?” Heero questioned as he cast a scrutinous gaze at my outfit.

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” I asked as I looked down at my cut off shorts and tennis shoes with holes on the sides where my little toes rubbed through.

Heero looked down with me, and then pointedly looked back into my eyes. I looked down again, and then looked back to him, just as pointedly. He lowered his eyes again, this time seemingly to study my shoes before slowly trailing his eyes up my body. When our gazes met, he cocked a brow at me. In return, I lowered my head, studied my shoes and then lifted it once again, cocking my own brow right back at him. He snorted once and I lifted my arms, flexing my muscles slowly. Then, for added affect, I leisurely kissed each bicep and he groaned, literally groaned, before turning away and walking to the living room. I _love_ driving him crazy. “Well, if you want, I’ll slap on a tie and make this sucker formal!” I called to his retreating back.

“Only you, Duo,” he answered me. “Only you.”

I grinned. Only me. I don’t think the Earth and the colonies could put up with more than one Duo Maxwell.

“Hey, Heero?”

“What?”

“Can we have spaghetti for breakfast?” 

* * *

 “Duo… please… don’t instigate the man next to us,” Heero murmured as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. There must have been a wreck or something further up the way, because traffic on the interstate was at a standstill and people were starting to get cranky. I don’t blame ‘em, it’s hot outside and your car’s AC won’t run as coolly when you’re sitting at idle. It was also humid out, so rolling down your window would only release any cold air you had built up in the cabin of your vehicle anyway, so all we could do was sit and wait for the obstacle to be cleared.

“I’ll have you know that I am being a good boy,” I said as I continued to make eye-contact with the man in the lane next to us. Long, deep, penetrating eye-contact. He was starting to get nervous. Maybe because from the waist up, I appeared to be naked, save for the bright red silk tie I had put on. Heero had nearly choked on his coffee when I busted a stroll into the kitchen wearing it with my short shorts and ratty shoes.

“Duo?”

“Mm?”

“Duo?”

“MM?”

“Duo!”

I turned around to grouse at my best friend, but as soon as I did, the flash of his camera phone flashed in my eyes as he gave me his meanest little grin.

“What did you just do?”

“Took a picture.”

“Don’t you dare, Heero.” I watched his thumb get up to mischief and I leaped forward, but I was too slow. Instead, I grabbed for his wrist and he let out a short bark of a laugh as he lifted his arm away from me in an attempt to keep his precious phone.

“Who’d you send it to, Heero!?” I ground out as both of our hands begun to get busy. We must have been struggling pretty good, because when I glanced up to the windshield to make sure traffic wasn’t moving without us, I noticed the hood of his Jeep was rocking pretty steady side to side.

“Quatre,” Heero smirked.

“I’m gonna kill you. Gimme that phone!”

“No! The phone is _mine_ ,” Heero grunted as he managed to ball his upper body up and stuff it into the fork of his crotch. He looked up to me defiantly, but then let out the most unmanliness of squeaks when I reached in and started fishing. Who am I to pass up a _beautiful_ opportunity to not only get his phone, but to feel the goodies, too? For crying out loud, he’s in swimming trunks! That nest was _begging_ to get raided!

“Those are mine, too!” Heero cried out. He grabbed my wrists and removed them from his personal comfort zone. “Sit down and behave!”

I flopped back in my seat, made a point of adjusting my tie and then moved, quick as lightning, to plaster myself to the passenger window of the vehicle. The man next to me was watching us in horror, so I began to grin very slowly as I pressed my forehead to the glass.

“Great, just don’t let me get ahead of him,” Heero said. “I don’t want him to get my plate number so he can file a report to find out who’ll be paying for his therapy.”

“That happened _once_ and you just won’t let me live it down, will ya?”

There was a long pause. “No.”

* * *

 “I’m… too sexy for my tie, too sexy for my tie, oh so sexy that’s why,” I sang as I twirled the tie in my fingers. We had managed to move all of fifty feet in the past half an hour and I was bored. Beyond the line of traffic, the ocean rose up, a swell against the horizon, and soon, we would be there. But for now, I had to entertain myself. I kicked my feet up onto the dashboard and sang. “I’m… too sexy for my knees, too sexy for my knees, hey Heero, look how sexy my knees are,” I continued to sing. Heero grunted in response.

“Who’re you texting?”

“Trowa.”

“Tell him I said hey.”

“Hn.”

“I’m… too sexy for my non-committal answers, my non-committal answers, my noooon-committal aaaaansweeers.”

“Leave him alone, Duo.”

How’d he do that? I had probably turned my head a fraction of an inch to serenade my new best friend in the car next to me, through two sets of safety glass and five feet of empty space between us.

“He looks so lonely, Heero. He needs his buddy to cheer him up.”

Heero glanced up from his phone, gave me a scrutinous look and went back to texting.

“That wasn’t a no.”

“Then you aren’t reading me as well as you used to,” he grunted

“How come we don’t make love anymore?”

Heero nearly choked on his tongue.

* * *

Uh _oh_ , Heero’s starting to lose his temper. I can tell by the way he keeps leaning his head against the glass, craning that gorgeously long neck in an attempt to see what’s going on way beyond where we’re sitting. I can tell by the way he exhales through his nostrils, the tight set to his jaw and the thin line his lips have pulled themselves into. Oh, I could just ravish him so hard right now. Rip that tank top off and yank those shorts down and just… down boy, doooown boy. You’re in denim shorts and those don’t do an erection well.

“My friend stopped paying attention to me when I pretended to hang myself with my tie,” I said in a gloomy tone.

Heero exhaled through his nostrils again and I decided that now would be a wise time to cut back on the clown routine.

“No worries, Heero, we’ll get there. Eventually. Calm down,” I said gently.

“I _am_ calm,” he responded with just the slightest edge to his voice.

“I packed a ton of food, want me to fix you a sandwich?” It was past noon anyway, and the cooler was in the backseat.

That seemed to perk him up, so he nodded his head in agreement. Without preamble, I leaned between the seats, pulled the cooler to me and began to make sandwiches. I even made one for my buddy in the car next to us, and after I had Heero taken care of, and my food on the dashboard, I opened the door and approached the poor guy’s vehicle. I almost felt sorry for him by the way he seemed to cringe within himself when I approached the window, but when he saw I had a peace offering of food and Mt. Dew, the ice melted off right away and he was most grateful.

“That was nice of you,” Heero said when I got back in and pulled my food onto my lap. I was so proud of myself for remembering the paper towels. I had only written two notes in reminder.

“Thanks!” I beamed at him. “I can be nice on the rare occasion.”

“Then the rare occasion must constantly occur for you.”

“Listen to you, Mr. Compliment. You keep that up and we’ll be having spaghetti for breakfast for a month!”

“I said you were _nice_ , I never said you were _normal_ ,” Heero sighed before taking a sip of his soda.

* * *

After we had finished eating, and I had packed away the trash in the little plastic shop bag I had brought along, I dozed off. The sun was warm, the air blowing through the vents was warm, my belly was full and I couldn’t help myself. I’ve pretty much slept most of the day, I’m such a bum. Heero was quiet as we inched ever painfully along, but when he put his hand high up on my thigh and gripped it, I snapped awake. Then, I felt gooseflesh rise at the way his hand felt on my skin. Those strong hands, rough and tender at the same time. My mind betrayed me and flashed images of the two of us tangled together, naked, panting, with his hands roaming my body. Squeezing, stroking, caressing…

I turned my hips away with the pretense of stretching from my nap, but the way his palm felt as it slipped against my thigh, brushing along the frayed ends of my very short shorts while Heero took it back only caused my stomach to clench again.

“Man, Heero, you need to wash this thing,” I said as I pointed to the hood beyond the windshield.

“We’ll run it through a car wash on the way home.”

“No, you need to park it out in the driveway, I’ll lend you these shorts, hear me out… why are you looking at me like that? No, what you do is get a big soapy bucket of water, and start seductively washing your jeep. You know that old librarian across the street has the hots for you.”

“The lady with the forty or so birds?”

“Yeah, her.”

“I thought she was more your type.”

“Huh? Where’d you get that?”

“Compared to you, it would take teaching more than forty birds to talk to keep up with your motor mouth. So, maybe she’s just practicing for when she can get her hooks into you.”

I clamped my hands beneath my chin, batted my lashes and crooned. “You noticed!”

Heero grunted, but, lucky for us, traffic began to move.

“You’re kidding me, we’re clear?” I asked as I sat up more and put my seatbelt back on. I waved goodbye to my new pal in the lane over, he tooted his horn and soon, we were all moving as one.

“Yeah,” Heero sighed.

“What’s wrong, buddy?”

“Most of the day is wasted.”

“Ah, c’mon, it’s not wasted,” I said with a smile. “We’ve had a good day so far, right?”

“Getting a very late start? Stuck in traffic?”

“We’re hanging out, got food, we’re not being shot at, yelled at, chased or having someone trying to blow us to smithereens, so it’s a good day.”

Heero grunted again.

“C’mon, Heero, cheer up,” I said. I didn’t like to see him down; it was a feeling of sorrow that wormed itself deep into the core of my heart when I saw him disappointed in anything. “It’s just 1:30, we have all day to have fun.”

“I wanted to go early and miss the crowd,” he said as he put on his blinker for the exit. “So we didn’t have to fight so many people.”

Wait a minute? What did that mean? A part of me dared to hope that perhaps he wanted more alone time with me while we were having fun, but I quickly quashed that nonsense down. Just because I’m crazy about the guy doesn’t mean he feels the same way. Why does he always have to get me thinking about so much serious stuff?

“It’ll be fine,” I assured him.

“Yeah,” he finally conceded as we got off the interstate and started heading for the public beach access.

Feeling brave, I suddenly reached over and patted his thigh, high up where he had touched me to wake me up. He cast a quick glance at me, sighed and then gave a soft nod to his head. I remember back when we were pilots, how his wild shock of hair covered a lot of his face. Wild and untamed. He’s still the same, but, with a little more reserve. That wild hair is still thick, and it’s still in his face, but there’s a more mature essence about it now. He doesn’t look like some feral kid, now, he looks like a carefree adult who takes a few minutes to finger-comb his hair instead of forgoing any grooming for the mission.

“Too bad Wedgie Boy couldn’t come, man, I would have loved to have seen Trowa’s reaction to Playboy.”

“Playboy would have probably ended up as nothing more than a bad smell in a shallow grave,” Heero said as he turned into the parking lot. Since we lived close to the area, we didn’t have to pay to go to the beach. Sorry tourists, but, if you want sweet free beach access, then you need to move here. He found us a good spot and we got out, me carrying the cooler with a towel over my shoulders, him carrying our two fold up chairs, our large fold up umbrella in its bag and the handle of our beach bag over his shoulder. The wind felt nice, it smelt of sea air mixed with jasmine. That will probably forever be my favorite smell. I turned my head over my shoulder and laughed softly to my friend. When he smiled back to me, his eyes growing soft and warm, my heart stuttered in my chest before fluttering in joy.

Yeah, this guy can make my braid sweat, and all it takes, sometimes, is just a gentle look.

“I swear, Duo, if you take a nap as soon as we get set up, I’m going to kill you.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, just watch me, I’m going to go play in that area where the water’s calm.”

“We need to bring our surfboards next time.”

“Just remind me to wax them this weekend, and the next time a good storm front is moving in, you’re on, pal,” I said.

So we got a late start to the day what with the heavy rain this morning, got stuck in traffic and arrived here a little late. So what? I’m still with him and he _wants_ to be here with me, wants to spend a fun day with me, and that makes me feel good. He better not be dying or anything, and is trying to make our last days as pleasant as they can be before he gets worse off. No, that’s stupid, we both have our medical records on file, and if anything was wrong with any of us, Quatre would know and immediately leap into action to fix what was wrong.

Maybe I can talk him into a movie tonight, and a nice dinner? Maybe I can secretly date him without him knowing it? I… think I like that. At least I can enjoy his company without so much expectation of not screwing anything up. Man, my self-esteem can be crappy sometimes, but, when I’m with him, I feel like I’m on top of the world.

Heero just makes me feel like a whole person. It is going to _devastate_ me when he finds someone for himself. There’s no doubt about that, not one bit. I’ll probably move away and transfer offices just so I don’t have to see a reminder of what was mine, no matter how one-sided and secret it was, that is no longer any more. But, until then, I will consider him mine and mine along, to love, and care for as quietly as I can.

I love you, Heero.

I didn’t realize he was speaking to me, I was staring off into the ocean. I guess he must have called my name several times, because before I could realize it, his hand was on my shoulder and a concerned look was etched onto his face. He gave me a soft shake and I slowly blinked and came back to the here and now.

“I’m sorry, Heero,” I said, not liking how husky and serious my voice sounded. It was the heartbreaking thought of losing him that had pulled me from a bright and sunny demeanor to a crestfallen one. I put on a smile to show him I was okay, and the hand on my shoulder just simply squeezed. “I was just lost in thought.”

“Bad thoughts?”

“Yeah,” I whispered as my eyes went back to the water.

“The war?”

“Yeah… and no. More about having and losing.” I risked a glance to his face and saw that he, too, could understand that. I guess it hurt him pretty bad when Relena got married to that rich young hunk, but, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t cheering over it.

“Do you need to sit down?” He turned his upper body, as if prepared to lead me to our chairs and umbrella he had set up while I was gazing like a lost child into the ocean. I shook my head and let out a soft laugh. “No, I think I need a hug more than anything in the world right now.” My eyes drifted to the foam cresting on the waves as they came crashing to shore. I watched how the small brown seagulls darted here and there, always out of reach of boisterous kids who wanted to chase them, always out of the way of feet that trod through them. I watched the sand grow dark as the waves poured over it, and then lightened as the water retreated. I wasn’t expecting a pair of strong arms to wrap around me and give me a warm, but firm hug.

I’d never hugged Heero before. Ever. Not even drunk. Sure, we often lean into each other, or throw our arms around each other, but an honest to goodness hug? Like this? I forgot to breathe. He was maybe two inches taller than I am, just right to wrap my arms back around him and rest my face on his shoulder. As much as my heart cheered in joy, my soul took a long, comforting breath. This was something I had been needing for oh so long. I closed my eyes and let Heero hold me while the wind, which smelled of ocean and jasmine, tousled my bangs against my closed eyes.

I love you, Heero. Please, even if you don’t feel the same, just let me love you.


	3. Chapter 3

Poor guy, Heero’s beat. We aren’t as young as we used to be.

I know, I know, I sound like an old fart, but factor in what we were put through when we were just barely teens, and you can see what I’m talking about. Heero’s got it the worst of all. He’s in great shape mentally and physically, but things just take their toll on him easier than they used to. I think it’s because he pushed himself so much harder than the rest of us did, and we weren’t slackers by a long shot. Look at him right now. He’s sitting on the couch fighting to stay awake. It’s Tuesday, it’s eleven thirty at night, and by now, on a work week, we’d either already be asleep, or were getting ready to be on our way to bed. His clock is pretty rote.

I guess the beach wore him out. After spraying me down with the sunscreen (to which I had found out afterwards that he had stored in the freezer for just long enough to send me into a coma because it was so _cold_ … payback…) we caught up with a few guys strolling past with a volley ball under their arm. To be fair to our new friends, we played on opposite teams. I won’t mention which team (his) kept winning, but hey, we all had a great time.

After the game, I went back to thinking about that hug, but at the same time, I kept telling myself to get it out of my mind. Heero didn’t mean anything by it and for me to get my hopes up about it… Well, I just reminded myself that he didn’t mean it the way that I wanted him to. I don’t look forward to the day when my heart catches up to what my brain already knows. Anyway, it started driving me crazy, so I walked away from him while he stretched out beneath the big sun umbrella he had set up, and I decided to comb the beach.

I guess it’s pretty easy to lie to myself. I’d sit in the surf, my fingers picking up tiny shells and some beach glass, by feel, as my eyes would be looking in Heero’s direction. He didn’t move much, and I was fascinated by the way the wind kept pushing those thick dark bangs off his face. He is so handsome, I don’t get why he has to hide behind all that hair. I saw the looks the women gave him as they walked by and I had to stop and chuckle at the memory of Playboy trying to get Quatre’s attention. There were a lot of women who practically did laps around Heero. Poor girls, you just didn’t stand a chance.

We had an early dinner at the local Italian place after we cleaned up at the beach and changed into some decent dry clothes. It was casual, but since I was pretending we were dating, I had all sorts of romantic scenarios running through my mind. With each non-committal grunt he made, I pretended it was some profound statement of our domestic bliss. He surprised me by ordering a second glass of wine that evening, and as we walked to the car, he bumped into me once. I had asked if he was okay to drive, but he just gave me that stoic penetrating glare he’s so good at aiming in my direction, so I put my hands up and conceded that I wasn’t allowed to drive his precious Jeep.

And of course, Mr. Can’t Get out of Perfect Soldier mode, once we got home, he fired up his laptop and went back to work. I decided to do a bit of the same, since we were more or less done with the fun.

* * *

I can’t get this case out of my head, I don’t care how cold it is, I just can’t let it go. Not for the friends, not for the family involved. I hate murder, I really do. I hate when lives filled with so much potential are cut short. I don’t care how long it takes me, I’m going to get this guy if I have to personally hunt him and any accomplices down, and drag them to justice myself. I’m good at that.

I guess I have been letting this case get to me. I haven’t slept much because as soon as my head hits the pillow, another idea hits, so I spring up and am back to work either making phone calls, remaking phone calls, or hacking away as I try to keep up before the scent fades and throws me off the trail. So, that’s where I am now, hunched over my desk and staring at this screen, waiting for the leads to reach out and slap me on the cheek.

Heero just went into the bathroom and I can hear the shower running. Not even the image of his naked, wet, dripping body can deter me from my… okay, so I allow one little weak moment of detraction to give me a break on my work. One little daydream of just marching in there and claiming what’s mine. And now, I have a tent in my shorts. Just perfect!

I can’t win, but at least I can scurry to my bedroom unnoticed before Heero sees the spectacle I’m making of myself and starts asking pointed and embarrassing questions. If he cared, he’d ask pointed and embarrassing questions, wouldn’t he?

Wouldn’t he?

Flopping back on my bed, I reach in, fish out my best friend and begin to take care of business. I get comfortable on my mattress and tuck one arm under my pillow as I do what a man’s gotta do. I let the sounds of the water splashing off the shower walls encourage my body to respond as it pleases; not intent on hurrying anything along. Maybe I need to have a little talk with Quatre. I know he went through hell trying to capture Trowa, who at the time, loved Quatre, but had no intention of being in any sort of relationship. It’s not that he didn’t care, like I said, he loved Quatre; he was just clueless, absolutely _clueless_. Maybe I should talk to the both of them, I know I can trust them with any secret, even to the death, but Heero and Trowa are best friends, too. What if Trowa knows something about Heero that I don’t? Like say, I don’t stand a chance on Earth or space to be with him?

I don’t want to hear that. I don’t want to know that. But at the same time, curiosity is driving me up the wall. I need to know something, I need someone to at least toss me a bone and I don’t think that’s too much to ask. The more time that passes, the more I realize that I have not only fallen in love with Heero, but that I have indeed loved him for such a long time. I need closure. I need to stop thinking about such serious matters while I’m enjoying my alone time. With a sigh, I tuck my now disinterested buddy back into my shorts and haul myself up off my bed. Heero’s still in the shower, so I go to the kitchen and wash my hands before going back to my desk and staring blearily at the monitor.

I lost myself in my work; actually, I was so absorbed in it, that when Heero put his hands on my shoulders, I nearly wet myself. And here I thought _I_ was the master of stealth! I crouched down and wrinkled my nose as I pretended to be more interested in the case file open before me than the feel of those strong hands.

_What are you doing, Heero_? I lament to myself. _Why are you doing this to me? Don’t you understand how you’re torturing me_?

Of course he doesn’t. Just like me, he can be pretty touchy-feely to those he feels comfortable around. I guess that should make me feel good; that he’s comfortable around me. I’ve seen the man just up and walk away from people who simply want to engage him in conversation. Male and female alike.

“Lead?” he asked. His voice used to sound deep and nasally when he was younger. Now, it’s just deep and smooth, and with him touching me, it was as if it were made of pure electricity that coursed from his voice box, down his torso, through his arms and into his hands. I had a cold chill that I couldn’t control and he released me from his grip. My shoulders were still warm from where he held onto me.

“Nah,” I answered.

“Are you going to stay up all night working on it?”

“No, my plan is to actually let my head touch the pillow so I can get another train of thought going, get up and then work on it for another few hours before I get stuck and then try it again.”

Heero paused on his way to the couch, and then sank down onto it. “Sounds reasonable.”

“Yeah,” I sighed.

* * *

The sunlight was bright and painful to my morning tired eyes as I staggered with zombie-like glory to the kitchen. I needed coffee; my brain juice was coagulated and wouldn’t sluice through the ole meats without a high octane dose of caffeine running through my system. I was a few steps down the hall when I heard it, and my steps shuffled.

Heero was in the living room, doing knuckle pushups with his back to the entryway. With each thrust upwards, he let out a deep, forceful grunt.

I canted my head to the right and tried to remember how to blink. He was wearing nothing but a pair of spandex, and with no lines between it and his flesh, I knew he was commando. I shivered once and then enjoyed the view while I composed love poetry to his biker shorts. The thin material clung to his well-toned rear like they were made for it. I remembered to blink and shook my head. Yeah, they _were_ made for it, wasn’t that obvious? Boy do I need coffee, but just the sight of him, pushing up and coming back down in quick succession, his loud breathless grunts of exertion as he panted from his efforts, was enough to render me temporarily stupid.

Yeah, thanks, Heero, but no thanks to you, I’ll do nothing with my life other than walk around with a perpetual hard on as long as I am living with you.

“Coffee’s fresh,” Heero managed between grunts and I felt my blood run cold. He knew I was standing here? Hopefully he didn’t know I was ogling him.

“Thanks,” I responded right away. No sense in being embarrassed. He probably heard my door open.

“I’ll grab breakfast after my run.”

“I don’t know where you get all this energy,” I said, shaking my head as my eyes watched the way his muscles moved fluidly beneath his flawless skin. Well, if you consider scars flawless. I do. Some of those old wounds I had even dressed myself. I felt my mouth go dry as he arched his back upwards, like a startled cat on Halloween, and then rise from the ground in a fluid motion. He turned to look at me then, a sparkle in those Prussian blue eyes that denoted a playfulness hardly anyone that knew him well had seen.

“Yeah yeah yeah, you gripe about love for pizza and we’re _over_ , pal,” I said as I turned to the kitchen and shuffled towards the coffee pot.

“You’d choose pizza over me?”

“You’re giving me a choice?” I fired back. He might have been playing, but I was serious. I turned my face away from the doorway as he came through it, and began to doctor my coffee.

“Never,” he said. “I trust your choices.”

And with that, he grabbed a t-shirt, slipped it over his head and left the apartment.

“Great, thanks Heero. Now I get to spend another day playing tag in my own head because you have to go and get vague about things like that,” I groused at the door when I was certain he was long gone.

Now, let’s see… where was I? Oh yeah, quick rundown, let’s make a list so I can absolutely drive myself crazy for the day.

He trusts my choices. What did he mean by that? He’s concerned that I would choose something I loved over him? Was he playing with me, or was that an innuendo? Does he pay that much attention to me and honestly know what I hold important and what I don’t? And he trusts my choices. He was doing knuckle pushups in nothing but spandex with his back to the door, oh boy what a great view and then… before I could stop myself, I was howling laughter. Heero had gone jogging in spandex; commando. I slipped my phone off the counter and gave him a quick text.  
  
::You’re jogging sans panties, aren’t you?::

::I don’t wear panties,:: came the message a few minutes later. I sipped my coffee and got comfortable at my desk.

::So I noticed this morning. If you did happen to have underwear on, you’re darn good at hiding the lines. Maybe you should teach a seminar on hiding panty lines, think of all the women who’d come. You’d be filthy rich!::

::Does this conversation have a point?::

::Are you jogging and texting?::

::Yes, and does this conversation have a point?::

::Think of all those hot women seated in the auditorium, looking up to you with desperation in their eyes::

::I think the rumors are true::

::What rumors?::

::You don’t have an off button::

::No, no I don’t. Are you still jogging and texting? Do you know how dangerous that is? You could run out in front of a car::

::I’m waiting for a light to turn so I can cross the street. And if you didn’t text me, I wouldn’t be in so-called peril.::

::I can’t see through your eyes, I don’t know what you’re doing when I text you. Why don’t you wait to text me back?::

I couldn’t focus when the next ping came, announcing that I had a text. On top of the conundrum Heero had given me this morning, I had just given myself a fresh one. He always answered me back. Well, not at the beginning, when we were soldiers fresh into the first Operation Meteor, but still, even back then he hardly kept me waiting for correspondence, even when he was on a mission. Today, I could text him and he always answered back at the drop of a hat. How many times have I seen him screen his phone? It brought back a memory of a few years back.

Relena had invited us to her Christmas ball. Despite everything, I really do like her. She saved a few dances for me that night, and we had a great time. I kept looking over her shoulder when I would spin her around (I can’t dance that well, but she had the compassion to take me into the ballroom an hour before it started and gave me the basics. I winged it from that), trying to see where Heero was. Every time I spotted him, he would be looking in our direction, his eyes shielded, but intense. I thought perhaps he was jealous that I was dancing with his girl. He only danced with her once that night, and she had asked him for another several times, only to be politely declined.

When I excused myself after our last dance, I went to the bar and got a glass of white wine. There was this massive plant at the corner of the bar, and I liked that, because it gave me a sense of privacy and security. I turned around on my barstool and looked out over the crowd. Heero was easy to spot; he’s always easy to spot when my eager eye seeks him out. He was standing by a balcony door, speaking with Trowa and Wufei and every now and then, he would look at his phone and place it back into his pocket. Screening texts. I couldn’t help but to wonder if he would screen me, too, so I pulled out mine and sent him a quick message, something along the lines of it being too humid in the large mansion due to all of the body heat that was building up.

With a little ball of dread in my stomach, I watched him pull out his phone, glance at it and then type. He agreed. My heart pounded and I knocked back half my glass of wine in an instant. I waited for a long while, watching him screen his texts and chat with our friends, and then I sent another, telling him that he should go get a dance with his girl before the night was up. He pulled his phone out, glanced at it, and then texted back that Relena wasn’t his girl and he didn’t feel like dancing.

I waited a little bit, and then sent back that if she wasn’t his girl, why was he staring at her and me while we danced.

He had to scroll through to get to my name this time, but he answered that he was just making sure I didn’t trip over both of my left feet.

I told him that he was just jealous that I was taking up all her time, and this time, he ignored me. I didn’t mind, because out of all those people messaging him, and with two of his closest friends talking to him, he still gave me the time of day. It made me feel real.

I didn’t realize I had been sitting there, staring off into space until my phone rang, startling me. I nearly dropped it before I hit answer and put it to my ear. “What?”

“I asked you a question fifteen minutes ago, you never answered,” came Heero’s breathless tone. “What do you want to eat?”

“Heero, you weren’t wearing underwear, where in the world did you put your wallet?”

“Same place I keep my phone,” he answered shortly. “In my fanny pack. I grabbed it on the way out of the door. You know that’s where I keep everything when I go out. What do you want to eat? I’m standing here like a fool staring at two different stores while trying to read your mind.”

“Huh,” I smirked. “Well, give me another fifteen minutes to think about it, and I’ll call you back. In the meantime, just keep staring there, big fella.” I held the phone away from my ear at the very Maxwell-like rant that came back to me. “I swear,” I called out with a laugh as I kept the phone at arm’s length, speaking over the colorful verbal assault meant just for me. “Do you kiss your Glock with that mouth? No need for such language, you’re gonna give me the vapors or something.”

Sheesh, you’d think I’ve rubbed off on him or something with a mouth like that. Heh.

Waitaminute… did he just say he was trying to read my mind?

It was a good thing I was already sitting down because when the phone fell from my limp fingers, I didn’t join it on the floor as I sat staring at my blank computer monitor, my mind buzzing numbly.


	4. Chapter 4

No… no… no… this can’t be. It just…

Shaking my head, I forced myself to focus on the here and now. In the distance, somewhere far away, I can hear Heero’s voice calling me, but I just can’t gather the willpower to focus that hard. Things don’t work out for me like this, only in my daydreams and if I’m lucky… at night, when I’m asleep.

I close my eyes, forcing a slow breath through my nostrils.

In. Out. In. Out. Nice and slow, calm the ole ticker down, because right now, my heart is trying to beat its way out through my breastbone. Heero’s voice, tiny and concerned, calls my name over and over as I wade hip deep into a panic attack.

I was foolish, I was stupid. Doesn’t he know what happens to people who get too close? They end up dead. I’ve told him about the orphanage; about Father Maxwell and Sister Helen. He’s heard about Solo and the rest of the gang. As much as I love the others, and show them how I care in my own special way, I _do_ end up holding them away from me at arm’s length. I only do it to keep them safe, because I care so deeply for them. I _love_ them. I can’t hurt them and the last person in the world I want to hurt is Heero. I can’t hurt him. Not him.

He’s stopped calling my name and before I realize it, I’m heading to my room on legs that feel like they were made out of clay. Shaky and ready to break. I throw open my closet door and grab my bag, stuffing in clothes haphazardly without a second thought. Inside, I’m chaos, I’m panic; outside, I’m watching everything going on as I move on auto-pilot, feeling calm and collected.

What am I doing, running away? Yeah, been there, done that. It’s a survival technique that makes sure you (or the ones you love and don’t want to die because you were stupid and let them get too close) don’t end up dead.

Stop it, stop it…

“Just _stop_ it,” I order myself, and for once, I listened. I remained standing in my closet, shaking like a puppy in a thunderstorm for who knows how long before I managed to fully snap out of it. With hands still shaking, I set my duffle bag back onto the bed and began to put my clothes away.

I can’t run away from Heero, not even if I tried. Yeah, maybe in the beginning he would let me have my space. He understands PTSD, which is what we all suffer from in one form or the other, but eventually he’d go and get me. I know him too well, he knows me. He knows the destruction we’re all capable of. He wouldn’t let me be turned loose on an unsuspecting city, much less myself.

I had just finished neatly putting away the last of my haphazardly packed clothes when I heard the door open. He didn’t call my name.

“I’m okay,” I answered over the sound of him clicking the deadbolt into place.

His footsteps were soft as he walked down the hall, and he remained silent as he leaned against my door facing. His eyes focused on the empty bag in my hands and I gave him a vulnerable and shameful look.

“Had a panic attack,” he stated as he drug his eyes up to meet mine. There was no judgement, just fact, and that helped me to relax. Somewhat.

“Yeah,” I whispered as I set the bag back down on the floor of the closet and then shut the door. “Had a panic attack.”

“Did you do your breathing exercises?”

“I was panting like a racehorse, to be honest.”

“Do you recall what triggered it?”

“You said you were trying to read my mind.”

“And that made you feel vulnerable?”

I pushed my hand through my bangs and closed my eyes as I took a long, deep breath. On the exhale, I whispered “Yeah,” and then for good measure, took another long deep breath.

“Why did that bother you?”

“I don’t know,” I said quickly, still keeping my eyes closed.

“Just a random trigger?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered again, dearly wishing Heero would stop with the twenty questions. I’m an honest guy, and I didn’t want him fishing out of me things I wasn’t ready to confess yet. “I’m okay, Heero, I promise. I managed it in time; I was on the cool down when you got home.”

“You need to eat,” Heero said, surprising me by reading my mind once again. I grew nervous at the thought again, but focused instead on my rumbling stomach. I fought to ignore the nervousness with Heero standing there observing me, and I was grateful that the second round of anxiety didn’t rear up like it could have.

Without a word, he turned and walked back down the hall, his steps heavier now that he didn’t need to refrain from startling me. I followed after him meekly, a heavy weight settling down into my soul as we adjourned to the kitchen. He pointed to the table and I sank down into my chair, resting my elbows onto the table as I watched him open the fridge.

* * *

I woke myself up snoring. Laying on the couch, sprawled on my back, my belly full from a good breakfast, I couldn’t help but to pass out. The anxiety was still there, thrumming in my core like a faint and distant power line downed in a storm, but as long as it wasn’t in the forefront of my brain, I could handle it.

I ran my hand over my mouth and lifted my head, looking around blearily. The sound of typing permeated the fuzz in my brain and I groaned. “Are you _working_?” I called out.

The typing stopped before Heero answered his affirmative.

“We’re on vacation you know. You know that thing where you take a _break_ from work?”

“I know,” Heero answered. Immediately the typing started back up.

“You need to give it a break, Heero!”

“You were working too,” he pointed out in a patient, long suffering tone.

“Yeah, but that’s different.”

The typing stopped and I felt a smirk pull my lips. I love getting a rise out of Heero. And then, a dirty little thought popped up in my head and I let out a soft laugh. Get a rise out of Heero? Get a rise… oh never mind.

“How is that different?”

“Well,” I drawled out as I sat up and swung my legs off the couch. “It just is,” I finally finished after a painfully long period of silence. I leaned forward to listen.

Heero grunted and the keystrokes began once again. With a grin, I rubbed my hands together in anticipation. “What are you working on?” I asked after a slow count to three. I wanted him to get comfortable again with the silence to focus on his task. The typing stopped.

“Paperwork, nothing more.”

One. Two. Three. Typing.

“What kind of paperwork?”

“The boring kind,” he answered back, blandly.

I counted to three as I snuck down the hall, and when I spoke again, I could tell by the tone of his voice that I had startled him. “Why are you doing boring paperwork?”

“Duo, does this conversation have a point?”

“No,” I said, drawing out the word slowly after the self-set appointed time had passed.

“Don’t you have anything to do?” he questioned as the typing started again.

I counted to four this time, and that upset his rhythm. “No.”

“Then go _find_ something to do, then.”

“Can’t do it, buddy. I can’t let you waste away working while we’re supposed to be taking a break.” Without knocking, I entered his room and stood a few feet beyond the doorway. It never felt right just to walk on in all the way without his permission.

Heero sighed and leaned back in his chair. I watched his hand come up to rub the back of his neck. He only did that when he had a headache coming on. I wonder if my panic attack earlier had stressed him out.

“Your head,” I pointed out.

“I know.”

“And the eye strain of the computer won’t do it any favors.”

“I’ll live,” he said dryly.

“C’mon, seriously, let’s… go do something. Go for a walk, maybe?”

“I just checked the radar, it’s going to storm. Big red cell heading slowly this way.” He cut his eyes to me. He knows I love storms. My eyes lit up and we grinned at each other, his maybe a little more subdued than mine.

“I’ll get the popcorn going, you find us a good zombie movie to watch,” I said.

“Why does it always have to be zombies?” he questioned as he rose and followed behind me. “Why not Frankenstein since he used lightning to regenerate his monster?”

“Well, that would be a good fit,” I said. It did make sense, after all. Leave it to Heero to be practical even when picking out a horror movie. “But you know me; I need zombies to thoroughly enjoy a good thunderstorm.”

“Of course,” he answered. I watched him head to my computer, shutting it down, and I opened my mouth to tell him that I could do it, but a flash of lightning illuminated the kitchen. Shrugging, I headed to get the popcorn out.

* * *

“Man, Heero, you need a haircut,” I said as I reached out to ruffle the wild hair at the back of his head. He’s really let it go here lately; it’s spilling over the collar of his shirt. I let my fingers brush along the nape of his neck. “Or is it true what they say? Imitation _is_ the sincerest form of flattery?”

“What are you talking about?” he grunted, his eyes glued to the movie. He didn’t pull away from my touch. That made me feel warm inside, because usually, Heero’s a touch-me-not kind of guy.

“Your hair,” I whispered as I leaned in close. “You’re growing it out. Just… for… me.” I let my breath brush across his cheek, and then, for added discomfort, I began to breathe against him loudly. The harsh pants against his skin caused me to break into a few stuttered notes of laughter before he put his elbow into my solar plexus and silently encouraged me to take my seat.

“If you want, we’ll go and look at places Saturday.”

“Places?” I asked. I furrowed my brow as I got comfortable on the couch, my attention turned back to the movie.

“To live.”

“You still want to do that?” I asked in surprise. “You don’t mind co-owning a house with me?”

“If I did, I would have either said so at the beginning, or would have changed my mind by now.”

“True,” I murmured, more to myself than to him.

“You still want to, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” I admitted. “Someplace close to town, close to the country, you know, right in between. Maybe an acre where I can plant a garden and do all that stuff we don’t have the room to do on the colonies.”

“You want a garden?” The disbelief in Heero’s voice put me on edge and I stiffened my shoulders.

“Yeah? What of it?” I asked, my tone a little more acerbic than I had meant. The next moment, my heart stuttered in my chest as Heero calmly rested his hand upon my thigh once again. High up, close to my hip. His eyes remained on the television, but his touch conveyed more than simple words were able. I calmed down. “Yeah,” I repeated again, more calmly this time.

“Good. I’m glad to hear it,” Heero said. For a moment, the weight of his palm against my thigh was the only thing in my world. I could have sworn he even gave me a little squeeze before it slipped away, his fingers innocently trailing along the thin material of my lounge pants and causing goosebumps to rise in their wake. I vowed from that moment on to only wear thongs if it meant I could have more skin on skin contact with him in that manner.

We sat in silence for the rest of the evening. I don’t know what he was thinking about, he’s not exactly an open book, but for me, I studied his profile from my peripheral vision. He’s so handsome. I love the way his lips part when he’s relaxed, just slightly, and it makes them look even fuller. His straight nose and that beautiful jawline. The way his hair frames his face and hides those stinging eyes of his. It’s no wonder women go crazy about him. I’d love him if he was a scarred mess, because on the inside; that’s who I fell for. He just happened to come with great packaging.

“Let’s head out Saturday and just have a look around. Would you consider just buying a plot and building from scratch?”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug before leaning his head back and closing his eyes. His head must have really been throbbing. It was my fault that he was in pain, if I hadn’t have had that panic attack, he wouldn’t be hurting right now. Shame flooded my heart and I fought not to hang my head in it. I didn’t want him to feel guilty on my part on top of everything else I had put him through today.

“That sounds good to me,” he said along with a soft exhale before bringing his head back right. “I need to go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning, Duo.”

“G’night, Heero,” I answered, my voice a little huskier than usual. “I’ll get you something for that headache.”

“Thanks.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Heero’s POV

 

I don’t remember much, all I can recall is the fact that I had a nightmare. It was bad enough to cause me to get out of my bed and sleepwalk to the kitchen. What I do remember… was horrible. Duo and I were in a war; not a Gundam war, though. Something more antiquated. We were in France, in the middle of a blown out road that was made out of bricks instead of asphalt. Bullets were flying by our heads, but the discharges were dull, muffled.

In the dream, I was fifteen years old again. It was cold and wet; the sky above was blotted out by thick smoke. Not from burning buildings, but from the amount of guns being fired. Duo was lying on his back, wounded, crying out and writhing in pain and I ran to him. I felt the broken brick bite into my knee as I sank down next to him, opening his thick coat and trying to find the wound so I could hold pressure. There was blood everywhere; he was coughing it up by the bucket. Or so it seemed. I called out to him and he begged me to run, to hide and save myself, but I couldn’t move from the spot. My hand continued to probe beneath his coat in a futile effort to staunch the bleeding because he was dying. The light was going out of his eyes and it frightened me in a way I had never felt fear before.

I never found the wound I so desperately sought to ease. Instead, I woke up crouched down in the kitchen with tears streaming down my face. The light was on and when I turned my head quickly over my shoulder, Duo was there. He was frightened and pale. Then he told me I had been calling his name over and over. That’s what had woken him up; he thought I had needed him.

I did need him.

Just seeing him alive took away the last vestige of the horrible images and I slowly rose and brusquely wiped the remaining tears from my face. Without saying a word to him, I simply nodded my head and walked towards him, wanting to go back to bed. Before I could pass him, however, he reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. I paused and cut my eyes to him and he gave it a squeeze. It gave me comfort, tremendous amounts of strength in that gesture, and I knew that when I went back to my room, that I could go back to bed and sleep peacefully for the rest of the night.

I settled myself down and pulled the covers up halfway over my body with a sigh. My head was still pounding, even after the pills he had given me before I went to bed. Stress, that’s all it was. I worry about him. I don’t think he can cope as well as he pretends he can. Me? I’m fine. A nightmare here or there isn’t going to kill me. I say that even after I’ve jumped out of a four story window during one. Duo, on the other hand, is far more fragile, more vulnerable. I don’t think the war did that to him, though. No, I think it was his life, or whatever you could call his childhood, before we met. He has major abandonment issues.

He tapped the door softly before coming in and I opened an eye to peer at him. I like to sleep on my left side, which faces me towards the window with my back to the door. If your back is to the door, your enemies can’t see how well armed you are.

“Hey, your head’s still hurtin’, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, just a headache, I’ll be fine.”

“If you want, I can work on your neck,” he offered. Why doesn’t he just walk into my room? We’ve been so close all these years, yet he acts like the threshold is as far as he’s allowed in. He doesn’t seem to have a problem when I let myself into his room. Odd one, that Duo. Also, I leaped at his offer. Sometimes at work, Duo will come up behind one of us and massage our necks as he leans over to read what we’re doing on the monitor and talk to us. He has Quatre absolutely spoiled, and even Trowa and Wufei will let him do that for as long as he will. Duo finds comfort in touch.

“Yeah,” I said as I rolled over onto my stomach. I ran both arms beneath my pillows and closed my eyes, knowing that my headache would soon be gone. He was gentle as he sat down by my bedside, his fingers warm as they began to knead the stiff muscles.

“Man, Heero, you are tense,” he observed. “I think you’re going to need a vacation from your vacation, pal.”

“Maybe during Christmas,” I said as thumbs pressed along the back of my cervical spine and alternated circles into the muscle. This is what Heaven must feel like.

“Ah, Christmas,” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. He loves Christmas. I do too, actually. I love snow, (we get plenty of it here) there’s just something so satisfying about it. And when you get five ex-Gundam pilots together after work, in the parking lot of the main Preventer offices, after a fresh bought of snow, you can count on trouble.

“Mmm,” I couldn’t escape the sound as Duo managed to get a good pop out of my neck just from the constant pressure he was apply with his thumbs. He chuckled and worked down lower, pressing hard as he inched his way towards the last cervical disk and the first thoracic.

“Christmas is a ways away,” he commented. I felt his fingers splay out along my shoulder blades as he pressed his thumbs along the knobs on my spine, working the muscles and aching tendons. My body began to relax further and the pain, which first went up to a crescendo something along C-5, was slowly ebbing its way down. Oh yes, sleep would come easy tonight and I would have a very good rest. Duo’s very good with his hands.

“If I take off, will you?”

“You know it,” he said gently, moving his hands slowly down. I have scars on my back from where I self-detonated Wing. The shrapnel tore into me pretty badly and Trowa had once told me that while I was out, they had to battle several small infections in the wounds. The back of my right shoulder was the worse; that took forever to heal. I’m glad they tended me though and not some hospital staff. The scars aren’t stiff and they don’t pull like the one on my left shoulder. _That_ one was treated in a hospital and I am considering having it cut so I can have full range of comfortable motion again. If I reach too far out and up, it hurts, for lack of a better word.

“Ah!” Another pop from my lower thoracic caused me to cry out in pain. Not in agony, but the good kind of pain that makes you long for yet another pop just for the sensation of painful relief. Duo chuckled and paused in that area, working the muscles there.

“You’re getting’ old, Heero,” he said, but his voice was warm. Was that… affection? No. Duo just being Duo.

“So are you, Duo, you’re the oldest one out of the bunch,” I grunted.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, rub it in, why don’t you?” Again, his voice was warm and full of a softness I don’t recall ever hearing before. It was nice. It suited him.

“Why don’t _you_ rub it in,” I said in return. He chuckled and went back to the massage. My eyes were too heavy to stay open, and I don’t remember when he slipped down to my lower back. I had completely missed it by falling asleep.

I was right though; I _was_ able to get back to sleep that night with the warm feeling of his strong hands bringing me much sweeter dreams.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a bit of naughty in it. Just enough to give you a warning. You've been warned.

It was dark, I was mostly asleep and someone was rapping urgently on the door. I staggered as quickly as I could down the hall, reaching out to touch the walls to steady myself as I made my way to the living room. Usually we keep a light on in the kitchen so we can see just for such occasions. However, another storm had brewed up and took our lights with it.

I didn’t take into account that I had moved the accent table (I had thought it would look great by the wall, silly me…) in the living room. It was a heavy old thing, not too big, just perfect to put our keys and whatnot on when we came into the house. Okay, to be honest, I bought it because Heero commented that he liked the golden color of the finish in that offhanded way of admiring things as he does. Anyway, last night I had moved it so I could grab said keys that had fallen off when I bumped it with my hip as I was vacuuming the living room floor. I guess I didn’t set it back flush, because when my knee suddenly hit the ornate bulb at the top of the leg, right where it goes under the table top, I miraculously had all the light I needed to see by.

It’s a shame that the light was behind my eyes.

I’ve been shot, beaten up, stabbed, and tossed about in the cockpit of Deathscythe all without (mostly) a word of complaint, but I have to admit; this hurt. A _lot_. I couldn’t make a sound; I just stood there, leaning down with my palm resting against the accursed table, trying to catch my breath. I swear the loud crack my knee made when it struck the devious leg was still echoing in the living room. When my mind finally cleared of enough pain for me to feel a semblance of relief that it wasn’t a toe that had been sacrificed to that bloody table, I straightened up. Whoever was out there was still knocking.

I was aware that I was barefoot, clad only in a pair of boxer shorts that were a tad too loose on me, but hey, as long as I could fish my revolver out of my gun belt hanging by the door, I could greet any intruder naked if I so chose. In fact, I have. The knocking continued and for one brief moment, as I undid the security chain as quietly as I could, the Raven came back to me from that old Edgar Allen Poe classic. “Nevermore,” I breathed as I jerked the door open and flipped the beam of my flashlight into my nocturnal guests face to disorientate them. I kicked the safety off with my thumb with an over-exaggerated bravado before dumbstruck silence caused me to blink in disbelief. The explosive sigh I released was almost deafening in the silence.

“Left without your keys again, I take it.”

“I did.”

“Why didn’t you just break in?”

“The last time I did, you shot me.”

“Well, apparently lesson wasn’t learned, because you forgot your keys.” I flipped the safety back on and lowered the flashlight out of Heero’s eyes. Behind me, from the kitchen, lightning flickered, filling the room in a negative image of its true self. I could smell fresh air on him as he walked by. His clothing brushing my bare skin, which in turn, caused me to ripple out into gooseflesh. I closed the door after he came in and listened to the hushed rustle as he removed his denim jacket. There was the crinkle of paper and a loud clack as I slid the deadbolt into place.

“The power went off about two hours ago,” Heero said as he walked into the pitch black kitchen. Navigating no doubt by memory. I heard the fridge open and then close before his footsteps came closer. “Thankfully I had just finished the last of my report. Noin will be pleased. I wasn’t sure if you were asleep or not, I called out and you didn’t answer, so I assumed.”

“Assumption was correct. How bad is it out there?” I pondered as I aimed the flashlight beam towards his shoulder. He was dry, if not pretty windblown.

Pretty… yes, he is.

“Wind’s rough, knocked a big branch down that took out a transformer on this side of town. It wasn’t raining so I decided to go see what was up. Here.” He held out the paper bag to me, holding an identical one for himself.

“Hey, thanks, what’s this?”

“Sandwich shop still had lights; I figured you’d like this.”

“I do, thanks,” I said with a grin as I saluted him with the bag. “Good thing we don’t go shopping until Friday, or we’d have wasted that money with no fridge. Are we due for a big storm?” I set the flashlight on its end, on that cruel accent table, so the light could bathe the ceiling and give us something to see by.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Yeah, before I got to you, I decided to try to breed my knee with the table.”

A grunt in response, and what felt to me like a long uncomfortable silence. “I can see to it.” There was no question in the phrase and no room for argument. Besides, if he hadn’t left his keys behind, I wouldn’t have hit the table and got badly, gravely, mortally wounded. So, hobbling to the couch, I flopped down and set my sandwich next to me. Man, that sure was a nice thing he did, but, well, that’s Heero. He’s a caring guy. I remember one time when Quatre was sick and there he was suffering through it and plowing through work as if everything were fine. Trowa and Wufei had been on assignment, some fluffy little case that took Heero and I (and yes, even Quatre) about six months to stop riding their backs about it.

Heero…

I remember it well, Quatre was running a fever and hunched over his desk. He was cold; he kept shivering even though he had his preventer jacket on. I had taken it upon myself to keep bringing him coffee or tea, anything warm I could put into him. I kept hovering over him and he kept assuring me he was fine and that he was not contagious. He wasn’t, which I was extremely grateful for, but hey; I’d suffer the flu for my bestest buddy.

Heero went a step further when he had decided that Quatre wasn’t well enough to pretend to be well. He pulled his chair back, much to a flurry of weak protests, and lifted our small blond friend into his arms. He carried him down to the parking garage, poured him into his car and then brought him home. For the next three days he mothered him until he was sure that Quatre would fare well on his own, then he came back home to me. I took over their cases in the time being, anything I could do to help. Heero just took the initiative, that’s how he rolls. And we love him for it.

We love him for it.

I was so lost in that memory that I never noticed the beam of the flashlight was no longer pointing towards the ceiling by the door. It was now clipped to the front of Heero’s shirt and focused on my lap.

“You’re not going to put in stitches, are you?”

“Depends,” Heero murmured as he opened up our med-kit and began to dig around.

“If you put that stingy stuff on, I expect you to blow on it, and then a kiss.”

Heero cut his eyes up to me. “And spread germs into a fresh wound?”

“Fine,” I said. “Take the magic out of it.”

He continued to pin me with the _look_ as he positioned the light on the coffee table, and then snapped open a fresh package of gauze. Before I could protest, he leaned close to my lap. I have to say, with Heero sitting between my parted legs, my body began to grow curious. Images flashed within my mind’s eye, of him in a similar position, his lips wrapped around my aching cock.

Shut up, Duo! What are you _doing_!? You’re gonna spring a boner right there in his face! Think-Think-Think! Oh, yeah, I got it, dead-guppies, dead-guppies, dead-guppies!

Letting out a sigh, I leaned back slightly as he cleaned out the gash. I had hit it in just the perfect spot. Right there just below the knee cap in that little gap. “Stitches?”

“Mmm, no,” he murmured. I could feel the reverberation of his voice travel along my thigh and my eyes snapped open. How far into my lap was he crawling? I realized that all he had done was angle his body in a certain way so he wouldn’t block out the light with his body as he worked, but still… those long unruly bangs were now tickling me. I’d be hard pressed to say that it didn’t feel good. The skin on his palms was rough and he used his free hand to steady my injured leg. Way up high on my thigh. I swear, even though there was shadow covering his hand, I could feel his pinky resting just inside of the hem of my boxer leg.

“You have an erection.” His tone was clinical, and maybe because my brain was lacking so much badly needed blood, I could have sworn he sounded flattered, even in his soft subdued monotone. Shut up, Duo! This is no time to get your hopes up when instead; we should be digging a hole so we can crawl under a rock!

“I uh, I uh…”

He didn’t lift his eyes from my knee, his rough palms moved over my skin and it sounded like whispers over silk. I shivered.

“It’s normal. Legs are erogenous zones.”

Oh please, someone, please kill me…

“I uh… uh…”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, it just means your healthy,” he explained patiently.

Dear hole, please open up beneath me. Thanks! Your pal, Duo!

“You’re going to bruise,” Heero commented as his hand slid further up my thigh, and I trembled despite myself. “It hurts,” he deduced as he lifted his eyes to me and I could only gaze down to him in pain, and the knee wasn’t the cause. “I’ll call Noin in the morning, tell her that you’re taking a personal day and why.”

“No, no, no!” I cried out, finally finding my voice in my panicked induced state. I even waved my hands vigorously in front of me to drive home the point that I was okay. Okay, I wasn’t okay, because when I suddenly blurted out my No, no no! Heero’s hand gripped my thigh in surprise, my balls got harder and I know if he wanted to take my pulse, he’d just have to stare at the large pole in my lap, hidden under loose cotton fabric. I cut my eyes down. Okay, not _that_ well-hidden.

Heero’s eyes moved down with mine and together we stared at the same thing.

Hey, hole? You uh got an ETA there buddy? I really need to jump into you feet first!

“You want some ice for that?” he asked, lifting his eyes back to mine with a hint of that mean little smile of his pulling his mouth up just the tiniest little bit on the left.

The horrified expression on my face quickly broke into a scowl and I tipped my nose into the air as I haughtily replied (Much to his amusement, I hoped!), “You don’t _ice_ down ten inches of pure Maxwell fury!” And to my relief, he tipped his head back and laughed. The good laugh that I so rarely hear, straight from his belly. His hand was gentle as he used my thigh for leverage as he rose and walked out of the living room.

“Where you going?”

“I’m going to grab a quick shower, and then eat and watch the storm come in. Don’t pick at that bandage.”

Just what I was planning to do (watch the storm, not pick the bandage, although now that he mentioned it, it _was_ starting to get itchy…) although sans shower. Before my horrible, debilitating wound, I had taken my own. I was officially squeaky clean. Then, another thought occurred to me. Heero. In the shower. Naked. Water running over his nimble body, his hands roaming over his flesh as he washed the day away in that body wash of his that I love so much. Hair slicked back from his face, his eyes closed with large drops of water catching in those oh so long lashes of his. I closed my eyes and lifted my hand to my mouth, curling an index finger and biting onto it gently. I gripped my good knee with my other hand and moments later, I felt my belly roll and then clench in a delicious cramp and then there was wet warmth in my boxers.

* * *

While Heero was showering, I managed to sneak into my room to clean up. That man can send me to heaven and back and not even lay a finger on me. Wow. I wadded up the boxers and tossed them into the corner of my room where all my dirty laundry went before wash day, got into a fresh pair and hobbled out. I paused by the bathroom door, listening with my eyes closed as the water splashed against the tiles, broken up here and there as he moved about beneath the stream. I shivered again, pinched the bridge of my nose, and made my way to the living room. When I sank back into my seat, the shower cut off, so I got comfortable and gazed out of the large windows.

The city was beautiful. Half of it was dark, but what light there was out there twinkled as tree branches whipped in the wind, momentarily cutting their view from me in sporadic areas. I could see how the low hanging clouds were heavy with rain as lightning played chase within them, and in the distance, the soft grumble of thunder greeted my ears.

“Want me to open the windows a crack?” Heero asked as he stepped in. Shadows from the flashlight sculpted his body and I couldn’t help but to notice that he was standing there with nothing but a towel around his hips while he used another to dry his hair.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” I murmured, dearly hoping I had spoken loudly enough to be heard, but low enough that the desire couldn’t be.

Heero simply nodded and opened them up just enough to let in some fresh spring air, which was amazing. It smelled so fresh and clean and brought with it the tiny sounds of traffic far below us.

“Hey, could you light a candle and save the battery on the light?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.”

“Hn.”

“The one that smells like honeysuckle?”

“Sure.” His tone was soft as he answered me. Oh how I love the spring time, especially going to Quatre’s country house late in the season, when the honeysuckle is gearing up to go into full bloom. I like to lie in bed at night there, with my window wide open and the warm country air stirring the curtains, and that sweet heady smell lulling me into the sweetest of dreams. On nights such as those, I was never an orphan on 02; I was never a soldier, never a Gundam pilot. I was just me, living a simple life with a simple plan and never a bad memory to fall back on as I drift off into sleep. I love nature and when I get older, I’m going to move somewhere close to a forest. I want to grow my own food, live off the land and be a burden to no one. I once, offhandedly, told Heero of my plans. His eyes grew distant for a brief moment as he thought it over and then he agreed that that was something to shoot for.

I watched Heero as he lit the expensive soy candle, my mind already providing memories the scent alone would seduce, and then, he left. To change into something more decent, no doubt. He had put the candle out of the way of the windows so the draft wouldn’t make the flame dance. Behind me, in the kitchen, the sound of thunder grumbled again. I love storms like these; the ones that announce themselves but take forever to get to their destination. So much raw power, so much bravado in them. They aren’t worried about nothing, they just come and do their thing and then leave when they’ve felt their job was done.

“What’d you put in the fridge?” I recalled him opening and closing it after coming in.

“Wine.”

“Cool, sweet white?”

“Sweet chardonnay.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Big storm.” He bumped around in his closet for a moment. “You want a glass?”

“Yeah, just a little one. Time’s it?”

“Ah… just a little after ten.”

“Nice, and here I was, being a good boy and went to bed at eight.”

“No wonder. You were up and out the door at three this morning.” Heero returned and went into the kitchen to get our wine.

“Yeah, well, if you want to shrink wrap an entire conference room, then you better make darn sure you’re up and at ‘em early. And besides; I had to be there to see the reaction in person.”

“You set up a hidden camera, right?”

I laughed softly. “Yeah, I did. Wufei and Zechs’ tantrum will be forever immortalized on YouTube.”

“Remind me to never piss you off,” Heero answered dryly as he handed me my glass and sank down on the couch next to me. He was close, but not in that invading my space kind of close. It was comfortable and made me realize that popping a boner that close to his face while he tended my knee didn’t bother him.

It bothered me, but it didn’t bother him. I felt a strange warmth stirring in my chest over that realization and when the paper began to crinkle as he unwrapped his sandwich; it reminded me to open mine, so I did.

Roast beef, lettuce, tomato, red onion, a dash of horseradish and some cucumber. The man knows me well. I took a bite as the wind kicked up outside and moaned my appreciation.

The storm was amazing. The lightning traced its fingers along the heavy clouds before our large windows, hail stuttered against the glass and rain took its precious time getting to us. Tornado weather. I mentioned that to Heero and he just grunted in agreement. I swear there was one gust of wind that seemed to shake the entire building. Then, right after that, there was a huge bolt of lightning that struck close by; maybe another transformer, we couldn’t tell. All of a sudden, there was a bright light, followed by that momentary bit of blindness and then the residual sparks from whatever had been unfortunate enough to get toasted. There seemed to be no change in the sparse lights still going on on the other side of the city, so there was no telling who may have been affected by that powerful strike. The intense boom that was born from the sharp crack was so loud that it seemed to dive straight through my breastbone and it _hurt_.

“Did you _feel_ that?” I asked in awe as I continued to stare out into the tumultuous night.

“I did,” Heero whispered. If I had the presence of mine to cut my eyes to the left, I would have noticed that he wasn’t looking out into the same night that I was. No, he was looking at me.

The entire time.


	6. Chapter 6

Heero’s POV

It had been over an hour since Duo had gone to bed. I sat a while longer, watching as the last of the storm passed, and then, decided it was time to get some sleep.

It eluded me.

Instead, I stood in the doorway to his bedroom, watching him sleep within a veil of shadows. Duo used to have nightmares. We all do to an extent, each of us suffering with the PTSD that came from the nightmarish hell of being child soldiers. There’s counseling, which helps, but it’s not quite… enough. No. I stand watch over him at night to keep his sleep peaceful when the nightmares come.

I know what signs to look for that denote he’ll have a restless night. The way his brow furrows and pinches a gentle line above the bridge of his nose when he’s deep in thought, or the hard way his eyes seem to stare through us, instead of at us and the hard set of his mouth that’s forgotten how to smile. Oh, he can smile and be as jovial as he wishes, but he can’t lie to me in that subtle manner that everyone else is so accustomed to believing.

I saw to it myself to take care of Duo, even during the wars. Two years ago, I decided to talk him into moving in with me, and much to my relief, it didn’t take much convincing other than the fact that no, he wouldn’t be a burden to me. I couldn’t help it, because before he chose to be my roommate he lived in a tiny little apartment on the west side of town; a claustrophobic little cube that didn’t give him enough freedom to truly call it a home. I’d been there often enough, only turning down an invitation if I was too swamped with a case to bother with coming over. The place was just too small for him, and if the confined space reminded me of the cockpit of my Gundam, I could imagine what it made him recollect.

I remember the first night he had a nightmare. I wasn’t even awake as I rolled out of bed, I just remembered crouching by my bed in my underwear, gun in hand. Then I heard him groan. It didn’t take long to go across the hall and open his door. The light washed over his form that was struggling within his sheets, his eyes shut tight and a look of terror on his face. My heart clenched and I set my gun down on his dresser. I remember staring at him from the foot of his bed, that’s all I could do, stare. I’ve never seen him so vulnerable and I have to admit; he was a veritable punching bag when we were Gundam Pilots.

I didn’t want to wake him, I can’t explain why, but I did want to comfort him. Maybe he had no business knowing that I have a more tender side. That’s nobody’s business, to be honest. I sat down beside of him and placed my hand on his chest. He reacted violently, his fist coming out and clipping me on the chin, but in the sleep state he was in, it didn’t pack much of a punch.

One thing I’ll never tell him; he _can_ swing a mean right hook. If I were an ordinary man, I’d be foolish to pick a fight with Duo. He’s lightning fast and sneaky and he takes things far too seriously in battle.

Right now, he was sleeping peacefully, curled on his left side with his face towards me. His breathing was even and I was satisfied. Without a sound, I took a step back, pulling the door mostly closed so the light of the hallway wouldn’t shine in his eyes, and then I went to bed.

 

 

“Hey, Heero?”

“Hm?” I was at my desk going over two case files for ballistics.

“I’m making the grocery list, can you think of anything?”

“Not off-hand,” I said as I swiveled my chair around and walked it to the filing cabinet behind me. I pulled the heavy door open and began to check rapidly through thick tan folders as Duo scribbled a few things on the list. The week after our vacation, after we had returned to work, had gone by rather fast. Well, for me at least. I love keeping busy. At least tomorrow was Friday and we’d have the weekend to do nothing and slack. Duo’s only mentioned the house he wants to buy once, so, maybe we could look more into that. Now that I really think of it, I think it’s a great idea. Besides, the kitchen we have now really _is_ too tiny and I like to have some room while I cook.

“Alright,” Duo mumbled. “I’m going to hit the store after I get done at the gym, so I’ll be late.”

“Why don’t you just let me handle it?” I asked as I continued to search for the file I needed. My fingers continued to skip rapidly through the names.

“Yeah, right,” Duo scoffed. “I know you; Mr. Generic is just as good as name brand.”

“It is,” I said as I located what I needed and slammed the door shut before pushing my chair back and rolling back to my desk.

“No it isn’t,” Duo said with a frown.

“It’s exactly the same thing,” I answered as I lifted my eyes up to him. This was a topic I could never convince him of.

“Then explain to me why my Cocopuffs don’t taste as good as the generic crap that comes in a bag.”

“Your imagination,” I said as I began to get back to work.

“It is not! The generic crap tastes like cardboard and it gets soggier faster!”

“That’s because it’s the product that’s fallen behind the machines. They sweep it out once a month and bag it up as generic.”

“AH HA!” he crowed in triumph as he pointed at me. “I knew it!”

“And I knew you’d agree with me. It’s the same thing.” With a smirk I picked up my folder and walked past him while he stood like a statue, processing that information.

“You suck, Heero!” he called to my retreating back.

“And you swallow,” I deadpanned back.

 

I couldn’t help it. I absolutely could not help it. I do have a mean streak. It’s in my nature. While Duo was working out at the gym, I had taken on the task of shopping. Usually we go together on a Friday, but this week, we had run out of more non-perishable things mid-week, so a Thursday evening trip was necessary. I was home long before he was, so I had time to strike. I put up all the name brand items I had purchased, hiding them conveniently in the linen closet by the bathroom before digging out the rest of the items. His generic Cocopuffs, generic pop tarts, generic soda… oh how that gets him howling. Especially if I’m not paying attention and grab the diet by mistake. I put the new package of name brand frozen waffles in the old non-name brand box where he couldn’t miss them; right in front in the freezer and then I cleaned up the evidence and put away the empty plastic bags.

When he got home that evening, the rambling started. Soft at first, and of course he howled when he saw the soda. I got a twenty minute lecture on how much that “crap tasted like salty ass”, and then I got to hear the sarcastic saga of the great “Pop tart shortage”, where thousands upon thousands starved to death because they knew better than to eat the non-name brand crap. I just sat on the sofa, relaxing and watching an old episode of _Married… with Children_ as he stomped about the kitchen. After a little bit he had fallen into a dull ramble, though sometimes some of the words were barked loudly enough at me to hear, but otherwise, I just sat and watched TV with a smirk on my face.

“You son of a bitch!” Duo spat as he came in with his real box of pop tarts. “I’m going to get you back for that!” The amusement in his eyes softened the sting to his words.

“That _is_ payback,” I said.

“For _what_?”

“You don’t remember?”

His face went blank before a large grin broke out over his angelic face. “Oh yeah,” he said softly, and then began to chuckle meanly. “For that time I put out the personal ad in the paper for you.”

“I’m still getting calls.”

The chuckles only turned darker as he went back into the kitchen. “I know.”

“Fair is fair.”

“Good!”

“I didn’t say we were _even_ , however. I’m just warning you that fair is fair.”

“Hey! You were the one that locked me out of the house naked that time!”

“Well, I’m still surprised the crazy bird lady across the road still has the hots for me,” I said as I leaned back on the couch and propped my feet up onto the table. “And here she’s seen _you_ naked.”

Duo groaned. “That’s it, I’m hittin’ the gym every night for the next two months.”

 

He made me dig out the rest of the “Name brand goodies” from their cache in the linen closet before he’d give me any peace. At least I had been nice enough to put the pop tarts where he could easily find them, you know, to alleviate the stress of his tirade. He was enjoying it. Duo likes attention. I think it’s because he got so little growing up. He likes positive attention, that is. He’s wise in what he chooses to accept. I don’t know why he chose me, however. I never intended on having friends. Hell, I never assumed I’d survive Operation Meteor. But, here we are; best friends. Perhaps more. I just don’t know how to tell him.

He was so adamant on breaking through my shell, he never gave up on me. In the beginning, I was so dark, so mission focused and then here came this bright beam of light, piercing the darkness, piercing my soul until the cold was slowly melted by that warmth. He gave me room when I needed it, but drew me close when I didn’t want it. He’s a natural, I don’t know why he didn’t go into psychology. He can read people like books and he has such wisdom, hundreds of years beyond his own.

I think Duo is someone who makes me feel safe. I can hear his voice down the hall when I’m having a dark thought, and then, the clouds just pass and I feel good. I feel right. This is what love feels like and to be honest; I really like it.

I wish I had the courage to tell him, but I don’t. That’s just fine with me, it’s not hurting anyone, keeping this secret to myself. I’m happy to feel this way towards him, even if it is unrequited. Oh, sometimes I’d like to think he feels the same way. He’ll give me a look, or he’ll touch me and it sends electricity through my system to levels of near overload, but, that’s all it is. A look, a touch. I can live life with his simple looks or touches as long as they’re mine.

“He~ey! Earth to Heero!” He was waving his hand in front of my eyes.

I force myself to blink and then lift my head. I’d been staring into space with my thoughts. “What is it, Duo?”

“Shower’s yours, but I’d wait. Had to wash my hair.”

“Want me to brush it out?”

Duo scoffed. “Why?”

“Well, it’s over three and a half feet long, you were complaining that your shoulders were sore from your work out and it would give me enough time to do something while I wait for the hot water to come back because of you.”

“You’re so clinical!” he said with his nose in the air, though his tone was playful. “Yeah, sure sure, just don’t yank on it.”

“I won’t,” I said. “Just run a towel over it first, I don’t want a small lake in the living room.”

“Ha ha…”

It didn’t take him long to get into his lounge pants and return to the living room. A fresh towel was in his hands and he used it to blot the excess water out of that chestnut mane. I’ve seen it down only a handful of times, and regretfully, it was wet. I’ve never seen the full glory of all that hair sweeping down his back to his knees, but I’ve had dreams. And day dreams. Spreading my knees, I gestured for him to sit down in front of the coffee table and he obliged. I could only close my eyes as a frown line pinched my brow as he purposely dumped the mass of damp hair over my lap, and then I picked up the comb. He didn’t have to tell me to start from the bottom up, and I took my time, combing it out lock by heavy lock while he watched a movie. When I got to his scalp, his body began to grow heavy against my knee and I knew I had a sweet spot, especially when I would trail my fingers through it and down his neck. I swear I even heard him purr once.

“Want me to braid it?” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he whispered back. “But just keep brushing?”

The hopeful tone of his voice made something in my heart shiver and I eased him over to the other leg. I brushed his bangs back, so I could get a good look at his face. I don’t know why he hides those eyes, masks and all, I suppose. Quatre’s guilty of the same thing, and here I am. Pot, kettle, black?

He relaxed more, this time, openly leaning his cheek against the inside of my right knee as I slowly trailed the wide-toothed comb just along his scalp. I watched his lashes flutter as his lids grew heavy. I knew exactly how he felt. This was the magic that he used when he would cure me of my bad headaches. Gently, feeling a bit of daring, I reached out with my hand and brushed his bangs back from his forehead in a timid caress. The touch startled him and he let out a soft gasp, his eyes snapping open wide.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Sorry, I was in the middle of asleep and awake, you know when you’re still aware of what’s going on, but dreaming at the same time?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“I dreamed you threw a cat at me.”

I couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped. Only Duo.

“You ready to go to bed?” I asked as I eased him forward and began to separate the thick hair into three separate ropes.

“Yeah,” he said, but he sounded a bit off.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’ll laugh,” Duo answered me sullenly. I was quiet for a while while I braided, and when he leaned forward further, he let out a pitiful moan.

“No I won’t, are you okay?”

“Yeah, hang on, let me stand up so you can finish, but don’t laugh.”

“I won’t,” I promised and he gripped my knees to use for leverage to stand with a grunt. I still didn’t see what the problem was, so I went back to braiding, letting my knuckles purposely dance along his spine. Now and then he would shiver, and then slowly shift from foot to foot.

“Are you okay?” I asked again.

“You’ll laugh.”

“I won’t.”

Duo turned around and I could see the large tent in his pants, but not the exasperated expression on his face. I couldn’t help but to stare. I wasn’t angry, I was flattered.

“It’s healthy,” I managed to respond with Duo’s self-proclaimed “Ten inches of Maxwell fury” staring me in the face.

“I’m going to go dig a hole and crawl in, night, Heero.”

I simply nodded in response and lifted my arm to hand him the comb. I didn’t mean for the inside of my elbow to brush it. His face turned bright red and he staggered away, trotting as best as he could to his bedroom. He’s lucky I was able to control myself and not throw him on the couch and have my way with him.

 

 

It was well after Midnight when I heard him groan. My feet hit the floor silently and I padded across the hall to his door. It was open a crack so I pushed it open further, peeking in with the excuse that he was having a nightmare on my lips in case the light woke him. It didn’t. He was in the throes of another dream, but the expression didn’t denote that it was a bad one. His hands were gripping the covers and twisting them, and in the beam that small bit of light cast over him, I could see small droplets of sweat on his skin. I let myself into his room and ever so gently eased myself upon his side of the bed. He groaned again, turning his head slowly from right to left, his lower lip pulled between his teeth as his body writhed once. Reaching out, I placed my hand gently upon his chest, but instead of soothing him, as it always did during a nightmare, it seemed to… excite him.

Duo pulled in a sharp breath of air, and then let it out in a shuddering pant. His brows furrowed and I soon realized that he was having an erotic dream. I felt a stirring in my boxers. I’ve never seen him so aroused before. Well, not counting earlier tonight when his erection was in my face, but this… this was so exotic. He really is quite the creature when he’s in the throes of passion. I relaxed my fingers against his chest and slowly drew my hand down, caressing his bare flesh. It puckered into goosebumps beneath the pads of my fingers and I felt a heat bristle within my core, spreading out to my extremities. Much like hypothermia victims must feel before they succumb to the condition.

This isn’t right, I can’t sit here by his side, while he’s vulnerable in sleep, and take advantage of him like this. I can’t move, however, I can’t force the muscles in my legs to cooperate and rise so they can take me away from this. I can’t stop the slow trek of my hand along his chest. My fingers brush against a nipple, bringing it to fierce life.

He moans at the touch.

Inside my own head, I answer it with a groan of desire, a need so great it’s causing the blood to rush against my eardrums, making roaring sounds against them. I inhale deeply through my nose, an involuntary reaction that I know is purely primal. My hand angles down to caress along his ribcage before angling back towards his navel.

I can’t take advantage of Duo like this, I wouldn’t hurt him for the world, and if he were to wake up as my hand slowly trailed down along his stomach… what would he think as he felt my fingertips bump along the muscles of his lower abs?

He’s naked. He must have taken off his lounge pants before going to bed, I feel soft hair now and know that I’m touching his pubic area. My erection throbs against my belly, and the thrill of this new secret thing pushes all shame aside. Now I’m touching something soft and hard at the same time, just along the edge, and it has a heartbeat that pulses with mine. Velvety steel. My eyes are locked onto Duo’s face, Duo’s _pleasure-filled_ face as my fingers now trace the length of that mighty rod. He wasn’t lying, there had to be at least ten hard inches lying against his hip, throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

It took every fiber of my being to rein in my desires and slowly, before I could indulge in caressing the inside of his thigh, I pulled my hand away as if his creamy skin burned. In a way; it did. I closed my eyes tight and leaned forward as a cramp took over my lower belly, and when I opened my eyes, I gazed into his face. He was still caught in that dream, and I could only hope he was getting what he so badly needed. His lips were parted now and his breath was coming in short puffs between them. I was able to fight myself from touching him any further, but I was not able to stop myself as I leaned over and took his lips in a slow, gentle kiss. They fit mine so perfectly and for a brief second, the tip of his tongue flicked out, touching my lower lip before disappearing. I pulled away and when I was satisfied that he was still sleeping, I rose on shaking legs and slipped out of his room like a thief.

Never had I succumbed to such a thrill, such an erotic adventure, and it had left me shaken at the very core.

 


	7. Chapter 7

I can’t _believe_ that I’ve popped not one but _two_ boners in Heero’s face, all within the span of hours. And oh, by the way, thanks for showing up and having my back, _hole_. Yeah, that first time I really could have used your services!

On the plus side, my knee doesn’t hurt.

On the very plus side, I had some great dreams last night, about Heero and I, doing the dirty. All twisted and tangled and humping and thrusting… dang you, boner… go away! Shoo! I’m doing laundry!

At the end of the dream, it had changed. Heero kissed me and it was so tender and sweet. It felt so real. Our lips fit like two puzzle pieces and all I can think about today is that kiss. I mean, the dream sex was great, but that kiss… wow.

“DOING LAUNDRY!” I bellowed when I heard the front door snap closed.

“Do you still want to go looking at places today?” Heero asked. I heard the fridge open and then close before he appeared in the small laundry room doorway.

“I don’t know, weather’s kinda crappy.”

“How’s your knee?”

Since I was only clad in boxers again, he took the opportunity to gaze at it.

“Bruised, swollen, gashed, but it doesn’t hurt. Major plus, huh?”

“Yeah,” he agreed as he opened the sprite he had fetched.

“Sorry about… you know,” I said as I put in a detergent pod and closed the lid. The knob made a quick ratchety sound as I turned it, and then the water began to pour when I hit the button.

“About the what?” he asked after taking a drink.

“You know…”

An arched brow lifted as he gave me a quizzical look.

“You _know_ …”

The other brow rose, just as questioning.

“You _knoo~oow_ …” This time, I gestured down to my crotch with both hands. “Almost put your eye out? Twice?”

“Oh,” he said.

“Oh?” Am I getting offended at that?

“Oh,” he answered.

My shoulders rose high. “Did you just offend ten inches of pure Maxwell fury?”

Heero lifted a shoulder and gave it a light shrug. “Fury? Seemed pretty tame to me. I mean,” he said as he turned and began to walk back to the kitchen. “I wasn’t afraid of being bitten.”

He didn’t react when I bounced a pair of his balled up socks (fresh out of the dryer mind you) off the back of his head.

 

 

 

The weather, indeed, was crappy. Overcast, gloomy, dreary, rain was trying to fall. This was seriously harshing my buzz, man. I slumped down into the passenger seat of Heero’s jeep while he navigated us through traffic. We’d go eat, maybe catch a movie; anything to get us both out of the house. The more I think about it, the tinier that apartment gets. I turned my head to address Heero.

“How big of a plot of land do you want?”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” he said as he put on his blinker. The guy in front of us was doing maybe five under, and it was starting to get to him.

“Well, we could get something roomy, but we don’t have to build in the middle. In case something happens, one of us moves out, and all. Sell the side piece of land…” He cut his eyes to me, his expression sharp. “What?” I asked.

“No one is moving out. And you will have more value if you center the house in the middle. People like symmetry.”

“Good point. What do you know about landscaping?”

“You’d be surprised,” he answered as he passed Mr. Slow-Poke. “If you’ll take my advice, let’s get twenty five to thirty acres, put the house in the back in the middle, long drive, nice fences, tree lined. IF we choose to sell, we’d have to beat people away with a stick. And I know we’d both do the upkeep, so it will be presentable.”

“Sounds good,” I said and realized that I was starting to get excited. “Sounds _real_ good.” I could see it now, manicured fields, a big house with elbow room, the garden off to the side in the back, and my horses. I love horses. They give me an excuse to wear a Cowboy hat and man I look _good_ in those.

“I don’t mind if it needs work,” Heero spoke up. “As long as it’s not completely covered in first or second timber growth. That would eat up too much of our time.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, my tone taking on a bit of a dreamy inflection. “Something that needs a lot of love.”

“A diamond in the rough,” Heero agreed. He got us off the interstate as we headed into town. “I’d like a garage; somewhere I can go and just… _work_.”

“Yeah,” I said. “You can have your garage, I’ll have my garden.”

“We have to think about house plans.”

“What do you think of a log cabin? We can purchase the kit and build it ourselves.”

Heero was quiet for a very long time as he thought the entire process through. “We could,” he finally agreed. “Weather and work permitting, though. And depending on where we buy the land. Do we want to live closer to work? _Is_ there anything available that’s close to work and town, and has what we want?”

I rubbed the back of my neck slowly in thought, and then gripped the base of my braid. I wound my fingers between the interwoven locks as I began to think. “Let’s just take it one step at a time, no sense in getting ahead of ourselves,” I pointed out.

“True,” Heero agreed.

 

 

 

“Our furniture will have to match,” Heero grunted as we walked out of the theater. They said this action slash adventure sequel was a flop, but I really liked the characters and wanted to give it a chance. Yeah, it was a flop. When the dingbat directors, who are new to the particular project, swoop in and make the main character out as a supporting one in favor of social justice warrior types, well, you’ve lost my loyalty.

“What? You have a problem with my eclectic style?” I asked and then took a long sip out of my massive cup. Refills were free, so I just had to top off before we left.

“Yes,” Heero said. We paused under the last bit of awning; it had gotten dark while we were out. Thunder rumbled in the distance and a sweet breeze blown off the ocean stirred our bangs in a playful manner.

“You just have no taste,” I said as I stepped out into the drizzle to cross the access road to the parking lot.

“Chrome does not go with wicker,” Heero answered as he followed after me.

“It does if you try hard enough!” I bantered back.

“Then stop trying,” Heero retorted.

Laughing, I got into the Jeep before the rain decided to get serious on us and buckled up, Heero joining me a few moments later. “Man,” I said. “All it’s going to do is rain this year, isn’t it?”

“It goes in cycles,” Heero said. We didn’t speak as he got us on the road. I was too lost in my thoughts. Matching furniture… what did that mean? _Did_ it mean anything, or was that just him being OCD?

 

 

 

 

Time’s passing. It feels as if we were in the 80’s last week, but now, the days are getting shorter and the air is taking on a crispness that can only mean misery if you aren’t keen on cold weather.

Thirty minutes from the apartment and we can actually go to the beach and _mildly_ freeze ourselves half to death with the breeze blowing off the water. That’s east of us. Go south and you get freezing rain. West and north, bitter cold with snow. Here? Bitter cold with snow. We don’t live in an area that sees a ton of snow at one falling, but it does snow consistently. Couple that with the sea air and it’s just magical. I love Earth. Heh, I used to want to go back to L2, to me, nothing was better, but back then… I used to enjoy living in a box. Maybe being in a Gundam gave you the freedom to feel like the entire universe was yours.

I guess in a way, it did.

Christmas is almost here, and Heero and I haven’t really talked much on the land purchase or house building or move. Not really. When we got off vacation, we put ourselves back into our jobs.

“Duo? Are you okay?” It was Quatre’s voice that pulled me out of my reverie. Out of habit, I put on a smile before I even let it click to whom I was acknowledging, and then sighed. “Oh, hey Quat, yeah, I’m fine. Just zoned out a little bit.”

“You look like you have a lot on your mind,” my blond friend said as he leaned his hip against my desk.

“Ever notice how sometimes time can just fly by?” I asked as I leaned back into my chair. It let out a comforting familiar creak.

“Yes,” he said simply. “Especially when you have something to look forward to. Or dread.” His brow furrowed. “You’re not dreading anything, are you?”

“Maybe,” I said honestly. “Heero and I are thinking of buying a piece of land and getting a house, but, I just _hate_ moving. All that running around and badgering and black mailing people to do it for you really wears a guy down.”

Quatre chuckled at me, but there was a certain twinkle in his eye that I couldn’t read.

“I’m happy to hear about your plans. Any set time?”

“We talk about it off and on,” I said as I leaned forward to get back to work. “I think he’s worried about my taste in colors. He claims I’m colorblind, so I just remind him that he has no sense of adventure.”

“Well…” Quatre said softly, letting the word draw out just enough that caused me to shoot him a glare. “Black doesn’t have to go with _everything_ …”

“Hey, black is a power color,” I said. “It’s… technically not a color, but we’re not here to get technical.” I tilted my head up and put my nose in the air with a slight humpf. The humpf grew louder as my friend gently ruffled my bangs and I swatted his hand away.

“Let’s go to lunch,” Quatre said. “Come.”

“Ah man, I’d like to, but I was planning on finishing this up. We’re almost done with this case; we just got the ballistics in and found out that it wasn’t the girlfriend’s pistol that killed the guy. I need to go back down and do some refires before trying to match those bullets on that gun they found in the river.”

“It can wait until after lunch,” Quatre said his tone firm as he took my arm and pulled gently. “Let’s go.”

I whined as he drug me up and pulled me towards the breakroom.

 

 

“Tell me what’s going on, Duo,” Quatre said as he fixed us both a cup of coffee while our meals heated up in the microwaves. I have to say, the Preventer headquarters has amazing breakrooms. And coffee. Kona. They know what keeps me happy.

“What do you mean?”

Quatre sighed as he brought the coffee over and then rested his palms onto the table as he gave me an even yet amused look. His lips were pulled into a tight line, but I could tell by the expression in his eyes that he was fighting hard not to smile. Or gush. The hell?

“What?” I asked again and for some reason, I felt the urge to get up and bolt merrily from the room. Something about being confronted by something you really don’t want to talk about, or think about, or admit, or realize, damnit he’s just staring at me and now he’s smiling. What does he know? Oh yeah… Quatre’s an empath, I forgot all about that! This could be a good thing! Maybe… depending on how much he perceived from me, I wonder if there was anything he possibly… maybe, perhaps… perceived from Heero?

“Duo?” he asked in concern. I had spent a lot of time in mental duress, my eyes scanning the room quickly, though seeing only what was in my mind’s eye. I focused them and came back.

“Quatre?”

“Are you okay?” he asked gently as one of our microwaves beeped. He put his hand on my shoulder and leaned close.

I studied his face for a long time before letting out a soft, deflated sigh. “No,” I whispered.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he pressed softly as his hand continued to grip my shoulder.

“I’m in love,” I breathed. There, it was out. I’m in love. DUO MAXWELL IS IN LOVE! You hear that, world!? My stomach flipped over and a brief urge to vomit surfaced before I forced it down. I gripped my coffee cup with both hands and stared into it as I swallowed hard. My hands were trembling. I opened my mouth, closed it, opened it again and before I knew it, everything came pouring out.

“I’m in love with Heero,” I said simply. “Every waking moment, he’s there, every night, he’s there, in my dreams, in my thoughts. I-I-I sometimes catch myself staring at him, and touching him by “accident”,” I lifted my hands to do the quotey-fingers and then began to speak rapidly. “I’ve got his routine timed down to the second, so he’s never late for a meal, his laundry’s always done, all his needs are met. I look forward to going home because he always drives and that makes me feel good, that he’s taking care of me, you know? Even though I’m the better driver…” I gripped the cup again in my hands and noticed that they were shaking hard enough to cause my coffee to ripple.

“He’s my everything, sometimes I wish I could just open him up and climb into him and just _be_ a part of him. He knows how to calm me down when my PTSD gears up and I go to do something stupid. He knows how to talk me down… I honestly think he’s kept me out of the madhouse and I know some people would look at this as a dependency thing. That I _need_ him to keep me sane, and they’re right. I _need_ him, but not to keep me sane, but to keep me… whole.” I lifted my eyes to meet Quatre’s, and he was still smiling his understanding, gentle smile.

“I love him,” I whispered. “And I have no idea of how he feels, if he feels… I know I’m his best friend, but I hope he’s not just hanging around because he feels a sense of duty or obligation to keep me out of mischief.”

“He doesn’t,” Quatre assured me before going to the microwaves and getting our food out. Trowa had cooked dinner for them last night, and it looked pretty good, but nowhere near as good as my lasagna did. Heero cooked last night.

“Heero cooked last night, I love lasagna,” I said as I poked at the cheese on top with my fork. “He knows exactly how I like it, my favorite restaurants, movies, music, clothes, we always do what I want to do, and I think he makes it out to sound like _his_ idea, but… we always end up doing what I want to do. I guess Heero _can_ be passive, I know he was trained to be a blank slate, more or less, but…”

“He does the things you like because he cares about you,” Quatre said. “And honestly, Duo, you’re a fun person, a lot of people look to you to see what’s fun.”

“Really?” I blinked.

“Of course,” Quatre said. “Believe it or not; you’ve got great taste in fun, and Heero trusts you to deliver.”

“Oh great,” I said dryly. “Now I have “fun” performance anxiety…”

Quatre chuckled softly.

“Can I tell you something funny?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said, speaking behind a napkin while he continued to chew. He’s so well trained. I smirked.

“Well, let me tell you about nearly putting his eye out. Twice.”

 

 

Aaah, just knowing what kind of mental image I had put in Quatre’s mind made my day. It was good to have a new in joke, even though Quatre isn’t as dirty minded as I am. All I had to do for the rest of the day was look at him and give him a very large shark grin and it was enough to throw a blush on his face before he would huff in a good natured way and avert his eyes. Once the pretense was over, he’d look back over to me, smirk and then toss his head before getting back to work.

“I’ll break you one day, blondie,” I said as I grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair.

“Wishful thinking, Maxwell,” he fired back as he shut down his computers. “Wishful thinking. Bigger,” he cast his eyes to me with a mean little glint and I got the meaning with a surprised gasp as his eyes went down to my crotch. “Men have tried. Goodnight, Duo.”

“Did you just shoot back at me?”

“I _wounded_ you,” Quatre grinned.

I huffed and stuck my nose up into the hair. “You grazed me, that’s all.”

“You better put some pressure on that wound before you bleed to death,” Quatre said as he shut off the lights to his little office. “Try not to bleed all over the floor, okay?”

I could only open and close my mouth, any retort lost. Quatre… sweet little Quatre… have I already corrupted him?

“Have I already corrupted you?”

“Yes. Come on, let’s go.” His expression turned serious and he gripped my arm. “One last thing, Duo. I can’t tell you how Heero feels, my gift doesn’t work like that with people like him,” he said gently. “But the two of you are used to a routine, right?”

“Yeah,” I said.

Quatre leaned closer, his eyes lost in thought as he whispered. “Break it. Just for tonight. See how it goes.”

“Oh…” Hope blossomed in my chest and I let out a sigh. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“That’s what you need best friends for,” Quatre said. “Break a routine; not a big one, either. Study him, see what he does.”

An idea already began to form in my mind. “That’s a very good idea, Quatre. A very good idea.” All this time, Heero has been driving me absolutely crazy. Half-naked knuckle pushups in the living room, having the nerve to sweat around me and me unable to pounce him. All that grunting and straining and flexing… and hello, boner.

 


End file.
